


Where They Don't Belong

by 29PiecesOfMe



Series: Angel Wings [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel Wings, Castiel Whump, Family Feels, Gen, Humiliation, Hurt/Comfort, Torture, Violation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-16
Updated: 2016-06-02
Packaged: 2018-06-08 17:19:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 39,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6865882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/29PiecesOfMe/pseuds/29PiecesOfMe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There isn't much that Zachariah WOULDN'T do, to get what he wants. But when he traps Sam, Dean, and Cas, they discover how far he would go. Sam and Dean are helpless to stop him or to keep his hands from where they don't belong. Torture is one thing, but this is evil. Set in Season 5, lots of Cas!whump</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_A/N: Originally posted to fanfiction.net, figured I'd put it over here, too. This is a dark themed fic. Please tread carefully._

* * *

How had Zachariah managed to get the jump on them like this!? In the old warehouse – because wasn't it  _always_ an old warehouse? – Dean struggled furiously against the two angels who held him trapped in between them. There was no point, though, and he knew it. He wasn't nearly strong enough to break their hold. Beside him, Sam was grunting with the exertion of his own struggle to fight free, but he wasn't any more likely than Dean to escape.

They were trapped, and Castiel was, too.

"Cas!" Dean shouted as he watched his friend take another blow to the stomach, doubling over in agony. Dean growled, struggling harder. "You sons of bitches! Leave him alone!"

"Dean, Dean, Dean."

Dean froze, not moving as he felt another body walking around from behind him. Zachariah gave him the creeps, and the way he was  _smiling,_ like this was the most fun he'd had all millennium, wasn't doing anything to help that.

"Let him go," Dean growled as soon as Zachariah came into view; in front of them, the two angels holding Cas had stopped the beating at least, but they were holding his arms tightly. One of them had reached up to set his hand on Cas's head, his fingers clenching through the angel's hair and jerking his head back.

"Dean," Cas rasped out, sounding a bit rough as he breathed heavily. The blood smearing his face and the bruises were already starting to heal themselves, and that was something. At least he could keep healing, Dean thought, but if they pulled out the angel blades…

There was a warning look in Cas's eyes, though. He seemed to be trying to tell the two brothers not to interfere, but how were they supposed to just stand there and watch Zach torture their best friend!?

"What do you want, Zachariah?" Sam demanded, trying to take the other angel's attention off of Cas. He didn't like how Dean and himself had been dragged towards the sidelines, leaving Cas in the center with the other two on him. He didn't know what they might do to Cas – or them – but he knew it couldn't be good.

Zachariah turned towards him, a disbelieving look on his face.

"What do I want?" he repeated. "What I  _want_ , you stupid monkey, is paradise! It's all we've ever wanted, and we're going to get it! But you've refused to cooperate, and Castiel here? Well, he's just completely forgotten where his loyalties belong, so…" Zachariah laughed slightly, which only served to make him sound more sinister. "I guess this is mostly just a bit of… punishment."

Dean hadn't stopped trying to struggle out of the angels' grips, but he shot Zachariah a furious look now. "What the hell's that supposed to mean?" he snarled, before his eyes darted over to Cas. Castiel swallowed hard, licking his lips slightly in open apprehension. Somehow, this only made Dean panic more. For Cas to show any signs of fear could only spell bad things. "Zach!? What the hell's that supposed to mean!?"

"It means, Dean, that there's some lessons to be learned here," Zachariah explained in his far too chipper voice. He strolled over towards Cas, making both Sam and Dean growl in warning again, but what could they do?

Nothing, they could do nothing as Zachariah settled a hand on Cas's shoulder. They could do nothing as they saw Cas instantly tense up and try to pull away, and they could do nothing as Zach  _shoved_ , the force of his stronger grace sending Cas down onto his knees on the dirty warehouse floor.

"Stop it!" shouted Sam, as Dean swore in fury. "Wait! What are you doing!?"

"At the moment?" Zachariah asked, eyebrows raising. "Teaching Castiel his lesson."

On the floor, Cas tensed again, then swallowed. "Zachariah…" he began, but said nothing more when Zach's hand – still on his shoulder – clenched tightly in what had to be a bone crushing grip. Cas didn't make a sound, but Dean swore again.

"So, what, this is what you've come to!?" he snarled in anger. "What, you torture Cas to make us say yes? We've played this game before, ugly. The answer's no!" How many times now had Zachariah tried to force the brothers into the role of their vessels by threatening them, hurting them, torturing them? They had managed to escape every single time.

Hurting Sam was the dumbest thing Zachariah could have done, the easiest way to  _assure_ that Dean would never cooperate with him… the fastest way onto Dean's hit list. Zachariah was at the top of that list already, because of what he'd done to Sam. If he added this on, now? If he damaged  _one_ hair of Cas's head, then Dean would only have double the incentive to  _kill_ him.

Zachariah, though, turned back to Dean with a part mocking, part incredulous look and laughed once. "What, you think this is all about you? Of course you do… you arrogant worm. He's not here because I'm interested in  _you._ Believe me, it's exactly the opposite."

"What?" Sam snapped in confusion, eyes trying to meet Cas's, trying to give him a silent reassurance that they would find a way out of this. Cas, though, wasn't looking at either of them. He'd been far too quiet this entire time, and his struggles had stopped. He already looked defeated, and that worried the brothers.

A  _lot_.

"What do you mean, it's the opposite?" Dean asked, seething. Zachariah's hand hadn't loosened on Cas yet, and the two angels who had his arms pinned weren't looking particularly gentle, either.

"I mean," Zachariah answered in a patronizingly slow voice, "I'm not going to use Castiel against you."

"You're… not?" Sam asked dubiously. Somehow, he really didn't believe Zach didn't have something evil planned.

"Nope," was the cheerful reply. Then, Zach's face darkened, and Cas groaned softly in pain as the other angel's knuckles whitened with how tightly he was gripping him. "No… just the opposite. You're here to make Castiel's punishment all the worse for him."

_That_ didn't sound good, and Dean instantly tried to lunge forward only to be dragged back again by the iron hands holding him. "What's that  _mean_!? Zach, you  _bastard_ -"

Castiel seemed to already know what was going on, because his head had dropped even lower, eyes tightly closed, as Zachariah began chanting something over him. It looked to the Winchesters as though Cas was actually  _shaking_ , which made their hearts beat even faster with panic. This looked bad, so bad. What was Zachariah  _doing_ to him, what was the chanting!? What did it mean, that they were there to make Cas's punishment even worse!?

Dean yelled at Zach again, but the angels were ignoring the two humans entirely now as a bright light suddenly began to blot out all vision. It burned whiter and whiter, until Sam and Dean both had to close their eyes with pained shouts, gritting their teeth and praying they didn't go blind from the sheer force of it.

When the light faded, the two boys pried their eyes open, and instantly gasped.

"What the-"

Zachariah was still standing behind Cas, who was still kneeling on the floor… but now bare from the waist up.

And with the minor addition of two massive  _wings_.

Neither Sam nor Dean could speak. They had never seen actual wings on any of the angels. Shadows on the wall behind them, occasionally… or burned into the ground where an angel died. But the actual wings themselves?

"Cas…." Sam whispered, openly staring. He was blown away, mouth open slightly as he gaped. The wings were enormous, extending several feet to either side of Castiel though the angel quickly tucked them in close to his body. They were a soft white color, but with brown and smoky grey flecks streaking through here and there, like the wings of a snowy owl. Either there was a trick of the light, or the wings were… glowing?

Not  _glowing_  in the full sense, but there seemed to be at least a soft sheen emitting from the wings, just enough to brighten the air ever so slightly around Castiel. They were so… pure. They were beautiful. All the humans could do was stare, but Cas was shrinking even more as he tried harder to pull his wings in even tighter.

"Zachariah," he whispered now, voice definitely hoarse and tense. "Please… brother… do not do this. Please, don't."

"Don't  _what_?" demanded Dean, giving himself a shake and trying to focus on the situation instead of the two incredible wings his friend was now sporting. He wasn't expecting an answer, and he didn't get one. Beside him, though, one of the angels holding him suddenly turned his head, looking away from the scene before them.

"Zachariah…" the angel murmured, and Zach's angry eyes snapped up to him.

"Yes?"

The threat was barely hidden:  _don't interrupt, unless you want to be punished, too._ The angel wasn't going to risk that, apparently, because he fell silent without another word. Zachariah, however, seemed to decide this had opened up the perfect opportunity for a monologue.

Strutting out from behind Castiel, who tensed when he heard the footsteps, Zach shook his head and squatted down beside his kneeling prisoner. He reached out, grabbing Cas's chin and jerking it up so that Cas had no choice but to meet his eyes.

"You deserve this, Castiel," he quietly informed the angel. "I tried, I really did. I gave you some gentle nudges-"

"This is not a gentle nudge, Zachariah," Cas interrupted. There was pleading in his voice, which filled Sam and Dean with even more dread. Castiel was a proud angel, and he'd survived more than either of them liked to consider. If he was this afraid….

"I thought I'd cured you of this," Zach went on as though Cas hadn't spoken. "I thought you'd learned your lesson after the  _last_ time you insisted on throwing your lot in with these vermin. You were such a good boy, for a while. What happened?"

"A good- You ass-hat!" Dean indignantly exploded, while Sam's eyes narrowed deeper into full bitch face. "Stay away from him!"

Zachariah was still acting as though he couldn't hear any of the interruptions around him, though, pulling Cas's face closer to him as he said in an even quieter, deadlier voice, "So, we're going to try this,  _again_. But this time, you're going to have an audience."

Keeping Cas's chin in an iron grip, Zach moved aside so that Cas's eyes met Dean and Sam's for the first time. It was only the swiftest second, before Cas's gaze immediately turned down. It was enough, though, for both the brothers to catch the burning shame that filled those blue eyes. It startled them, enough to make them freeze in their struggles, and watch their friend.

"Cas?" Sam asked quietly, but there was no answer. Cas, and the majestic wings that Zach seemed to have revealed to them, drooped in the angels' holds. Zachariah straightened up, tugging his suit jacket straight, but didn't yet move back behind Cas.

Instead, he asked in a stony voice, "Whom do you serve, Castiel? Us, or them?"

All eyes were on the kneeling angel, who was staring at the floor. Dean could see Castiel take a deep breath, seeming to steel himself, before his gravelly voice echoed through the warehouse,

"We were  _all_ meant to serve and protect humanity, Zachariah. Our Father created them and it was always our duty-"

"Wrong answer."

"Zachariah,  _please_ …"

"Hold your wings out, Castiel."

There was a sharp intake of breath as the kneeling angel looked up at Zachariah in horror and mutely shook his head. Zach only sighed, looking heavenward as though seeking patience and then nodded to the angels holding Sam and Dean. Both the brothers grunted in pain as the grips holding them tightened all the more, and the cold metal of angel blades snaked their way up to touch the bare skin of their throats threateningly.

"Alright, hold your wings out, or… your two favorite pets take the punishment."

"No!" Castiel growled, looking desperate. "You need them! You wouldn't kill them!"

"True. Doesn't mean we can't break them and put 'em back together a million times over," threatened Zachariah. His eyes had hardened to twin chips of ice. "Wings.  _Now_. You know I can  _make_ you, so why don't we make this easier, hmmm? Spare the humans a world of pain."

"Cas, whatever this is,  _don't_!" Dean pleaded, not at all liking the sick looking defeat on his angel friend's face. He had no idea what Zach was trying to do here, but he knew it was something horrible. This was Zach, after all, and the son of a bitch was evil, angel or no.

Castiel, though, seemed to know Zachariah wasn't bluffing about the amount of pain he could inflict on the Winchesters without losing them as vessels. Slowly, hesitantly,  _fearfully_ , he unfurled the wings that he'd pulled in tight towards himself. As he did so, his head immediately tilted down, and away from Zachariah, with a wince of humiliation.

Once again, Dean realized that the angel on his right was also looking away, jaw tight with unmistakable discomfort and disapproval. Before Dean had time to ponder what that meant, Zachariah was already raising his empty hand… and settling it down on Cas's now outstretched wing.

"Castiel," he murmured again, voice low and deceptively soothing. "Whom do you serve?"


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: Rated due to theme. Trigger warnings, guys… there is not—repeat, NOT—any sexual abuse taking place, but the idea is deliberately similar. Please be careful if that’s a bad subject for you right now._

* * *

 

Cas shuddered, while the Winchesters fell still to watch in confusion. What was Zach doing? He seemed to be… stroking the angel's wing? That was far from the violence that the two had been expecting, but Sam's eyes narrowed even more. Zachariah was up to something bad, he  _knew_ it, but this made no sense.

There was no answer from Castiel, until Zachariah set his other hand down right into the downy feathers on Cas's wing. This made him whimper slightly, something that the brothers had  _never_ heard the fierce angel do. He was shaking, they realized with concern; Cas's eyes were clenched tightly closed, and his face was burning. His breaths were sparse and shallow, and the wing that Zachariah was caressing kept twitching as though fighting the urge to jerk away from the touch.

"Don't fight me or I'll make the humans suffer. Answer the question, Castiel," Zachariah crooned, running his hands back up through Cas's feathers and then caressing down the top ridge all the way to the wingtip. When he moved over to the other wing, Cas's face immediately tilted in the opposite direction again, as though unable to look. He still looked as though he might throw up.

To Dean's right, there was a nearly imperceptible sound of disgust, coming from the angel holding him. Dean shot a questioning look in his direction, but the angel wasn't looking at him – or the scene playing out on the warehouse floor. Frowning, Dean looked back at Cas for answers, but Cas's eyes were still tightly closed.

Was that… was there a tear on his cheek?

"Please… please stop. Brother, please. Stop," the kneeling prisoner whispered, voice breaking slightly. There was no mercy to be found, though.

"You deserve this, Castiel. You disobeyed, now accept the consequences," Zachariah murmured, the same low, crooning voice that sent a shiver running up Sam's spine, a ripple of disgust that he couldn't explain. Something about all of this made him feel… dirty.

Almost like…

"Why…" Dean murmured quietly to Sam at the same time that Sam was coming to his own conclusions. "Why does it seem like… Zach's bad-touching him?"

The revulsion on Cas's face, the shame, the shudder of his wing as it desperately strained to pull away from Zach's wandering hands – but Zachariah was gripping the wing in a vice like grip now with one hand, using the other to caress him. It all pointed to the same thing, the same  _horrifying_ thing that brought bile to Dean's throat.

Zach was doing this  _in front of them_ , humiliating Castiel as angels were clearly  _not_ meant to be humiliated. He and Sam were the audience to add to Castiel's shame "this time", and Dean realized with another jolt of horror that this was what Zachariah had done to Cas to "punish" him before. Zach had done this before!

"Oh, hell no,  _no_!" Dean shouted, his fight renewed as he and Sam traded looks of revolted rage. "You _bastard_!"

"Get away from him!" Sam desperately yelled, squirming this way and that in an attempt to free himself and reach his friend, to stopthis from happening. Dean had hit the nail on the head. It was evident that Zachariah was  _not_ supposed to be touching Cas like that! Whatever this was, it was  _sick_ , it was deranged and horrifying and  _evil._

"Cas!" Dean shouted again. "Cas, hold on! Zachariah, leave him alone! You bastard, I'm gonna  _kill_ you!"

"This doesn't concern you, Dean," Zachariah said without even looking at the two humans, an unpleasant sneer on his face as he leaned in towards Cas's ear. Cas shuddered with a sickened groan and tried to pull away, as Zach murmured, "Would you like to rethink your answer, Castiel?"

"Brother," Castiel gasped out, held fast by the two angels on either side of him. "Please… Zachariah, don't do this. This is not… who we are. We are guardians-"

"Wrong answer again, I'm afraid."

Zachariah leaned away and nodded to the two angels holding Cas. With his eyes closed, Cas had no warning to prepare him as both of the stony faced angels silently reached out and also buried their hands in the soft feathers of the gently shining wing.

Castiel cried aloud, a spasm of horror flooding his face as he tried harder to jerk away. Threat or no threat to Sam and Dean, he was fighting now; but he was already weakened by his separation from heaven, and there were three angels holding him down. He couldn't break free, and there was absolutely no question now what was happening. Sam and Dean were shouting in true fury now, throwing all their energy into trying to escape, to reach Cas! They had to stop this, they had to help him! Whatever this was all about, Cas clearly did  _not_ like it and that was all they needed to know.

"Stop!" Castiel sobbed, wings pulling this way and that, but pinned in place as the angels stroked and caressed the soft white feathers. "Brothers! No,  _please_!"

"WHOM do you SERVE!?" boomed Zachariah mercilessly. "Say it! You serve US! Say it, Castiel!"

"I… no! Our Father meant for us to-"

"Our Father isn't here!  _I_ am! You will swear your allegiance to us again, Castiel, and you will  _bow_ to me!"

The hands caressing Cas only intensified, and he fought again to pull away with another quiet sob. It was sick, everything about this was sick, and the helpless rage the two humans felt shook them as they listened to their friend pleading for his brothers to stop. They didn't. All three were holding him, trapping him, touching him in such a terrible way. Their hands rubbed and petted him, pressing through the feathered wings that trembled in horror at the invasion, and Sam and Dean couldn't stop it, couldn't save Cas. They were  _fondling_ him, this was so wrong, and Zachariah was  _smiling_ as though he enjoyedtormenting him.

"Zachariah," called the angel holding Dean, the same who had spoken up before. Dean didn't stop his shouting, but from the corner of his eye he could see the troubled expression the angel was wearing. "Zachariah…"

"What?" Zachariah snapped, seeming irritated at the interruption. He and the other two still had their hands stroking through Cas's feathers, where their hands  _did not belong_ , and the angel holding Dean hesitated again.

"Perhaps… perhaps this is going too far. Zachariah, this does not… this does not seem right."

Sam and Dean finally stopped yelling at that, as Zachariah and the other two angels holding Cas also paused in shock that anyone would dare defy him or protest. Everything was still for a second, the silence broken only by Cas's choked breaths. His cheeks were burning with shame, and two glistening tracks trailed down his face from his eyes. He slumped, sagging in the other angels' holds, wings still trying to curl in and hide themselves but still held spread out so vulnerably.

"Doesn't… seem right?" Zachariah asked in his dangerous voice, and the angel swallowed. "Terriel… Castiel must learn humility."

"But this, this is not humility," the one apparently named Terriel softly responded. "This is humiliation."

Hope flared in Sam's chest. Maybe there was one decent angel here, at least one who would stand up for Cas, who would do the right thing. Please… he  _had_ to do the right thing. Sam couldn't watch that again, and he was sure that Cas knowinghe and Dean had seen it was only going to make things harder for the traumatized angel.

Zachariah wasn't impressed - only angry. "I'm sorry," he said dangerously. "Would you like to try that again? Are you going to disobey, too, Terriel? Do you want to end up like him?"

Terriel swallowed, hesitated, but then stood firm. "Zachariah, this is wrong."

Neither Sam nor Dean dared speak up, or move. If they interfered, Terriel might lose his nerve, and this angel might be Cas's only chance.

And even he might not be enough.

"You  _are_ going to disobey," Zachariah said in disbelief.

Terriel drew himself up, letting go of Dean's arm as he took a step forward. Dean still didn't dare move, as the angel retorted, "I am loyal, Zachariah. But this…" he gestured to where Castiel was pinned down, trembling and humiliated. "…this cannot be what our Father would want. You know this," Terriel added, turning to the remaining three angels who were holding the Winchesters.

They looked uncertain, but their own eyes were fixed on Castiel. There was a mixture of fear, doubt, and revulsion in their gazes. Unlike the three angels on Castiel, who all looked grim and vengeful, these three didn't seem to approve of what was happening. They were frozen, torn, caught between fear of Zachariah and the truth of Terriel's words. None of them released the Winchesters, but Dean was just silently giving thanks that no one had their hands on Cas's beautiful snowy wings anymore.

He was shaken, shaken to his core. Of all the things he had feared when Zach had caught them,  _this_ had never even entered his mind. That an angel – an  _angel_ – could do something so despicable, to one of their own no less… Dean was shaken. But if this was a nightmare for him, he didn't even want to think about what this had done to Cas.

If only they could get him out, away from here.  _Far_ away.

"Please," Dean whispered out loud now, looking to the three angels holding them. "Please… please stop this. He's your brother. Brothers protect each other! How can you just stand here and let them do this to him?"

"You shut your mouth, boy!" Zachariah snarled as he waved a hand at Dean. Instantly, the older Winchester felt his tongue meld itself to the roof of his mouth, any further words dying in his throat as Zach simply took his power of speech away. Dean's mouth moved, but he couldn't make a sound.

His eyes, full of desperation, sought out the angels again, though. His mind was a race of fury, his heart cold with hatred for Zach and the other two who had done this to Cas. He  _had_ to get the other four to help! Neither he nor Sam were strong enough, and Cas couldn't fight free on his own. The angels were his  _brothers_ , the thought of allowing anything like this to happen to Sammy... the thought of  _doing_ this to Sammy, it was enough to make Dean all but explode from the force of his rage.

"Please," Sam instantly took up where Dean had left off. He was scared at how silent Cas was, how defeated he looked. The angel hung there between the other two, his head tilted down and eyes closed against the nightmare.

It would have been easier to watch him be beaten, when it came down to it. Cas was a soldier, physical pain would have been preferable, and even  _that_ would have killed Sam to have to watch. But this?

Sam shook his head, pleading eyes boring into the hesitating angels. "You would never let a demon do that to him," he pointed out desperately. "Because it's sick! It's evil, and you know it! Help him! No matter what you think he's done, he's still your-"

"And enough out of  _you_!" snarled Zach, pointing at Sam next so that he was gagged as effectively as Dean. There was nothing they could do now, but the hands on them seemed to be loosening. Slowly, very slowly, the angel blades lowered.

A fraction of a second, an eternity of hesitation... and then, as one, the blades raised again, towards Zachariah and the other two. They had made their choice: regardless of what betrayal Castiel might have committed, what Zachariah and his two angels were doing to him was a betrayal as well, and no crime could fit this punishment.

At the challenge, the two angels holding Cas drew their own blades in response, releasing him to slump down to the ground as his wings curled around him. It was the opening that Terriel needed. With a swift flutter of invisible wings, he appeared across the floor at Cas's side; he was back beside Sam and Dean in the blink of an eye with Cas draped over his shoulder. There was an angelic touch to both their foreheads, and everything disappeared.


	3. Chapter 3

By the time Dean could reorient himself to where they were – some abandoned road in the middle of the woods – he could speak again, and he shot straight for Castiel.

"Cas!" he shouted, arms already reaching to take Cas's weight from off of Terriel's shoulder. The incredible wings had disappeared back into invisibility once more, hidden from the human plane of existence, but Dean never had a chance to comfort his friend. Not that he had the first idea how the  _hell_ he was supposed to, after what he had just seen -  _whatever_ he had just seen.

Cas, though, upon realizing that they were all free and far away from Zach, turned away and was gone, disappearing as fast as a whisper. The Winchesters were no longer in danger and so he fled - stumbling a bit, perhaps, but racing away as fast as his betrayed wings could take him. Sam and Dean both shouted after him, but there was no calling him back and they'd never catch up to him until he was ready to come back. Shouting in frustration, Dean spun around and kicked a nearby tree as hard as he could in his rage.

This did nothing but hurt his foot, but Dean was too furious to care. He was going to  _kill_ Zachariah, he would slaughter that angel with his  _bare_ handsfor what he'd done to Cas! Dean couldn't even fully grasp what he  _had_ done, but he knew enough. He knew FAR too much. He could tellit had been vile, and cruel, and he would  _kill_ him.

"Dean Winchester. Sam Winchester-"

"How could you  _let_ Zach do that to Cas!?" Dean shouted, spinning back around to face their rescuer, who was still standing by the roadside with his arms at his sides. "How could you  _let_ him!?"

Terriel met his eyes steadily, but there was sorrow and guilt written there. "I… I am sorry," he quietly replied, soundinggenuine but who knew with angels, anyway. "Zachariah's actions were inexcusable."

"I don't even know what the hell he  _did_ ," Sam growled. "What the hell just happened in there!?"

There was a pause, and then Terriel sighed. "I have never seen an angel punished in this way before," he admitted. "I did not know it was going to happen. It was… the worst thing Zachariah could have done."

"Yeah, I'm gonna go out on a limb and say, angels aren't  _supposed_ to touch other angels'  _wings_!" Dean snarled venomously, pointing in the general direction behind him that he thought Cas might have flown in. Just before his friend had taken flight, Dean had gotten one look, just one good look, at Cas's face. What he'd seen there would haunt him forever. His expression had been sick with shame, with pain and fear, deadened…

"An angel's wings," Terriel answered softly, "are… they are intimate. They are a manifestation of an angel's grace, his or her soul. Our most vulnerable, most intimate pieces of ourselves. Yes, we  _may_ touch them, but as a rule we do not unless there is a strong bond of trust and affection between two angels, and both are consenting. Or, of course, if they require healing. But Zachariah had no business touching them. It was meant to humiliate Castiel, to show domination."

"Domination? _Intimate_? Did that bastard," growled Dean with a voice that promised death, "just…  _rape_  Cas?" The word tasted so disgusting that it nearly choked him, though both he and Sam had been unable to stop from thinking it the entire time. It couldn't be. Zachariah  _could not_ have done such a thing, and right there while they watched... Angel rape? It wasn't possible.

Again, Terriel hesitated, seeming unsure how to answer. "No…" he replied slowly, which was a  _very_ slight relief, but not nearly enough to squash the revulsion and rage that the two humans felt.

"No!? Cause it sure as hell looked like it!" Sam retorted.

"No. Not… not in the way you as humans understand the word," Terriel went on. He hung his head, sighing. "But yes, I suppose it was similar. I should not have allowed it to go on for as long as I did. But there is no way to explain to you in terms that you would understand what Zachariah has done."

"TRY!"

Dean's bellowing voice echoed through the dark, surrounding trees, and Terriel paused. There was a frown on the angel's face, thinking for a moment before answering, "The closest I can come is to say… imagine, Dean Winchester, someone threatening to kill your brother unless you remove your clothing, forcing you to expose yourself to them, and then touching you, intimately… in front of your brother-"

"That's called  _rape_!" shouted Dean, but Terriel still looked unsure.

"-but without it being sexual in nature," he finished. "As I said, I do not believe there is a human analogy. That is what has just happened to Castiel. It was not a punishment against his flesh, but his grace, which you do not have and therefore could not understand. Our wings are intimate, but not sexual. There was no sexual gratification here, nor any feelings of pleasure either wanted or unwanted. It was forced, unwanted intimacy, as is your human notion of rape, but it was not…  _exactly_ the same."

"It was close enough!" argued Sam darkly, not caring at all about the semantics. If anything, this was  _worse_ than the "human notion", if it had not been Cas's body but his very soul that Zachariah had sullied.

"And when all  _three_ of them joined in!?" Dean demanded with a sick feeling. An ugly, ugly word crossed his mind, that he couldn't push away.  _Gang rape..._  the sickening horror on Cas's face when all three hands settled into his wings where they didn't belong... Even Terriel had stopped them at that point. Dean didn't care what the hell Terriel wanted to call it, when three people held another one down and touched him in any way that he didn't like, it was rape. Those angels were going to die, by Dean's hand.

Terriel straightened, frowning, before adding, "Either way, it was a perversion, an invasion on Castiel. It was wrong, and I am sorry. Angels… angels do not act like this."

With a snort, Dean shook his head, too busy promising vengeance on Zachariah and the other two, and worrying where Cas had gone and when he'd come home to be interested in apologies from Terriel. "Yeah, sorry, but in my experience, they  _do_ ," he snarled. He turned his back on Terriel, already praying to Cas, hoping desperately that his friend could still be reached.

_Cas… man, where are you, come on… come back, damn it! Cas, please come back. Don't do this to me, come on, Cas!_

There was no answer, though. Behind him, Sam was quietly thanking Terriel for getting them – and more importantly, Cas – out of there. Dean didn't care. He was glad they'd gotten out, but Terriel should have stepped in longbefore, and if he hadn't been such a cowardlike all the others, maybe Cas wouldn't have had to go through all that – AGAIN.

"What are you going to do now?" Sam quietly asked, trying to keep his rage under control. Fury would not help Cas, but possibly Terriel could. "You disobeyed. They're not going to just let you walk back in there."

"I am loyal to heaven," replied the angel in a soft voice. "Not to Zachariah. I cannot serve him any longer after what I witnessed. The higher command must be notified of what he has done."

"The... higher command?"

"Yes. I must go back. They will put a stop to this, and to Zachariah."

He actually sounded confident. He really believed what he was saying, but it was crazy. He didn't  _really_  believe that, did he? Dean didn't particularly want any angels around him at the moment, except for _Cas_ , but he and Sam traded a quick look and nodded. Sam turned back to Terriel, urgently asking,

"Stay with us, Terriel. You could fight with us! Look... you  _know_ Zachariah was wrong, you must know everything else he's been up to is wrong, too. You saved Cas.  _Help_ him. Help us!"

Terriel was already shaking his head, though, and Dean felt anger course through him once again. With another disgusted snort, he turned his back on the angel once again. Frigging angels, they were all the same. Nothing but spineless dicks, who would even allow a  _brother_ to be tortured if they were ordered to! What was the point of standing up for something if Terriel wouldn't continue to fight! He'd just go running back to the same people who probably put Zachariah up to this in the first place!

"Forget it, Sammy," he spat out harshly. "He's a coward. We're done. We'll find Cas on our own."

Behind Dean's back, Terriel's shoulders tensed, then sagged. "Goodbye, Winchesters. Tell Castiel…" There was a pause, and then an even softer tone. "Tell him, I'm… I'm sorry."

There was a flutter of wings, and the angel was gone. Sam stared at the spot he had just been, expression dumbfounded. Was Terriel so naïve that he believed the "higher command" didn't already know exactly what Zachariah had done? That they had probably even condoned it? No, of course it wasn't what  _God_ would have wanted, but the orders weren't from God. The orders were from cruel, power hungry archangels who would do anything it took to get what they wanted... even if it meant torturing Cas.

"Well, we're not gonna see  _him_ again," he muttered, knowing that the angel had probably just signed his own death warrant. He had disobeyed, after all, and apparently the punishment for that was the unspeakable act that Cas had just suffered. The "higher command" wasn't going to help him, they were going to punish him and "re-educate" him back into a good little obedient soldier. But that was no longer any of their concern, their concern was for Cas.

But what the hell were they supposed to do?

"DAMN IT!" Dean shouted suddenly, yelling at the top of his lungs, before sinking down to the muddy ground in frustration. He could still hear Castiel pleading for them to stop… he could still see the horror in Cas's eyes as he realized what was going to happen again, could still see his friend trying so desperately to pull his wings out of reach.

He felt dirty for having seen it happen, and shuddered to think of the shame Castiel would be feeling. "We gotta find him," he growled, turning back to Sam. His brother sighed, spreading his hands out helplessly.

"I agree, Dean, but how are we supposed to do that?" he pointed out. "Cas doesn't want to be found. He just… he just probably needs some space right now."

There was nothing else they could do, and they both knew it. They were in the middle of nowhere, far away from the Impala or a town. All they could do was call Bobby to come and get them… and then they were going to get down to the business of finding a way to kill Zachariah, once and for all.

Screw the Apocalypse. This was personal, and Dean swore, if it was the last thing he did, he'd avenge Cas. He would find Zachariah, and he'd make him pay.

If it was the lastthing he did, he would be the one to shove an angel blade straight through the evil bastard's snarling face.


	4. Chapter 4

For the next two weeks, Sam and Dean prayed like mad, trying to reach Cas. They tried begging, they tried insisting, they tried rationality. They implored him to come back, urged him to return home, but nothing worked. Cas seemed to be in no hurry to show up, but every moment that he was gone left the two Winchesters getting more and more worried.

 _Cas, please…_ Dean tried, standing out in Bobby's junkyard, staring up at the night sky with distant eyes.  _Look, man, just let us know you're alright, at the very least. We don't know where the hell you've gone, can't you at least just…_

At least just what? He didn't even know, and the prayer trailed off as Dean heaved a sigh. He was still and quiet for a moment, his face set in a glare. He couldn't wait for the next time he caught up with Zachariah. He would kill him  _dead_.

"Dean?"

Dean tensed as he heard his name, turning around to see Sam walking up behind him. Dean greeted him with a jerk of his head, but was otherwise silent. Sam didn't try to break that silence, leaning against the car next to his brother, hands shoved into his pockets.

Neither of the two had really talked about what they'd seen, or what Terriel had said. It was just too sickening to discuss. Bobby had gotten the whole story from a thoroughly disturbed Sam; Dean hadn't been able to even get the words out. Bobby's violent expletives had scared off a couple of birds who'd been roosting in one of the old rundown cars, and it was clear that he was just as angry over what had happened as the two boys.

Unfortunately, he could offer no advice but what they already knew: Cas was clearly going to need some time to deal with this and there was no way to go after him anyway.

They couldn't even go half the places that Cas might be. Hell, he could be in the center of a volcano, at the top of Mount Everest, he could be on the damn moonfor all they knew. He was an angel – an  _angel_ , so damn powerful, and the fact that he'd gone through this was still surreal.

"We can't just sit around doing  _nothing_ ," Dean growled to break the silence, and Sam bowed his head in agreement.

"I know," he quietly replied, long hair hanging over his eyes. "But… Dean… what could we even do?"

"Maybe we could summon Cas, you know, like the first time."

"Pretty sure if he wanted to be brought here, he'd come when we prayed, Dean."

"Well,  _what_ then!?" Dean was glaring at Sam now, but it wasn't Sam's fault that he was right. They'd discussed it once before, but Sam had voted it down. Compelling Cas to come with a summoning ritual was just… well, it was too much like forcing him to do something he might not actually want. Right now, that was just something they couldn't do.

So they did nothing. The prayers continued, but Cas stayed frustratingly absent. Another week went by, and they were back to hunting at last, trying not to worry but failing. Dean was hoping to run into Zachariah – he didn't even have an angel blade, but at the moment, he was convinced he could rip the angel apart with his bare hands.

This town had no angels, though, only demons, and that was how Dean ran into trouble.

It was supposed to be an easy kill, in and out. How were the Winchesters supposed to know that there were another four demons waiting in the rafters? They were outnumbered and outgunned, and it was no time at all before the demons got the upper hand.

Which ended up, of course, with Sam unconscious on the floor and Dean bound with thick ropes to the support column of the warehouse they were in (because, yet again, it was ALWAYS in a frigging warehouse). Four of the demons were dragging the unconscious Sam out the door, carrying him off to Lucifer, while the fifth demon remained behind.

 _Cas_ , Dean prayed frantically, struggling against the ropes as he watched his brother disappearing from sight. The demon was approaching him with the confiscated demon-killing knife and a dark smile, but his own safety was the leastof Dean's concerns. He had to stop those demons from taking Sam!

"Gonna gut you nice and slow," the demon hissed, shifting its grip on the knife and brandishing it with clear anticipation. Dean didn't even respond, nor even lookat the demon. Sam! Sam wouldn't say yes, but what if Lucifer  _made_ him say yes? Dean wouldn't let Sammy suffer through whatever they did to try to force him to agree, he just wouldn't.

 _Cas, PLEASE!_ Dean prayed, shutting his eyes and stopping in his struggles.  _Help! I need you, WHERE ARE YOU!?_ He could feel how close the demon was, he could feel the movement of air as the knife was raised… Dean tensed, waiting for the inevitable burst of pain that was sure to follow right before he died.

_CAS!_

"So long, Winchest- AAAGGGGGGHH!"

Dean froze, keeping his eyes tightly closed. There it was, what he hadn't even dared to hope for: the flapping of wings, the whoosh of air bearing an angel to him, and the blinding, impossibly bright flash of light that nearly burned his eyeballs from their sockets even behind his lids.

When an angel got to smiting, there was no escape.

Even once the screaming stopped, and the distinctive sound of a body hitting the floor could be heard, Dean couldn't quite bring himself to open his eyes. That light was so frigging bright, his head was already slightly throbbing… but if that was the cost of seeing Cas, he'd take it any damn day.

There was a beat of silence, and then the subtle rustle of movement... a scrape of metal on the floor, as the knife was probably being picked up. Dean felt the ropes securing him to the pillar being cut, releasing him.

Only now did he risk opening his eyes, to be greeted – at last – by the sight of Castiel.

"Cas!" Dean gasped, quickly stepping forward towards the angel. He himself didn't even know what he was going to do – hug him? Put a hand on his shoulder? – but Cas stepped back before he could do anything, face turning away. This made Dean pause, stopping awkwardly.

Then, he remembered: "Sam! Cas, we gotta get Sam, the demons took-" Before Dean could even finish, Cas was gone. Without a single word, he'd just disappeared, and Dean nearly panicked; had he just left, was Dean going to have to fight off all four of the demons and rescue his brother alone!?

But less than a second later, he heard the soft flapping and Castiel was there once more. The unconscious Sam was draped across both his shoulders (feet nearly touching the ground, he was so tall) and Dean could only assume that the demons were all dead as evil doornails, smote straight back to hell. Cas unslung Sam from his hold, setting him down on the floor as easily as though he weighed nothing at all. He didn't say a word.

With Sam safely deposited, Cas straightened back up and turned away from Dean, stepping away.

"Wait!" Dean quickly pleaded, realizing with a jolt that Cas was honestly about to just take flight again. He stepped forward once more as the angel hesitated, glancing over his shoulder but not looking right at Dean.

Forcing himself to stay calm and not make too many movements towards Cas again, Dean took a deep breath and tried again. "Wait," he repeated in a quieter voice. "Man, come on. Where've you been? We've been praying for you to come back."

There was no answer, not even a sign that Cas had heard the question, really. He was still standing there, arms at his sides loosely, his back to Dean but his head tilted towards him. Dean was moving slowly, steadily making his way around the trench-coated angel. His eyes never left Cas, doing a silent, mental stock of his friend's condition.

Physically, he looked the same as ever. Maybe a little haggard, a little wrinkled and unkempt by comparison to his normal appearance, but nothing too alarming. His expression was more concerning. Or, rather, the lack of an expression.

Cas's face was stony, jaw tight, but there was nothing in his eyes at all. The blue seemed to have dulled, the gaze not reaching Dean. The emptiness made Dean's throat tighten up, his chest constricting as the pure emotional pain slammed into him. Seeing anyone he cared about suffer had always hit him so hard, and Cas was just as much family to him as Sam or Bobby. If only Cas would at least  _look_ at him.

"Cas?" he tried again when the angel didn't respond. Tentatively, he took another step closer, and Cas exhaled sharply in what Dean thought might be annoyance.

Dean stopped instantly, not wanting Cas to fly away. He raised his eyebrows, waiting for the angel to say something – anything. The silence seemed to be uncomfortable to Cas. Dean held his breath as his friend opened his mouth, then hesitated. Then, after an eternity, finally spoke.

"You should be more careful."

"Uh, yeah… yeah, we should be." At least Cas was talking.Dean was elated. " _Man_ , it's great to see you, though." Silently pleading for Cas to stay put, Dean slowly knelt down to give Sam's shoulder a shake. He knew his brother would be crushed if he missed getting to talk to Cas. If Castiel flew away again, who knew when he'd show up next, or how long that would be?

As he knelt, Dean tried to stall a bit by continuing to talk. "Thanks, by the way," he remembered to say. Did they thank Cas for saving their asses often enough? "That's what I call timing!"  _Sam, wake up, damn it!_ "We didn't know there were gonna be-"

"You're welcome."

"No, wait! Please,  _wait!"_

Again, Dean held his breath, heart pounding as Cas flickered for a second, as though he'd started to take off but then paused when Dean called him back. He still hadn't even looked at him, though, wouldn't meet his eyes even for a second. That was more painful than Dean could have imagined, but at least Cas had stopped.

It was clear that he was on the edge of flight, though, and Dean gave Sam a rougher shake. "Can you wake him up?" he asked Castiel, the thought suddenly occurring to him. "You know, uh… maybe the demons… uh, did something to him, you know?" He doubted that Sam's unconsciousness was due to anything more than being hit in the head, but if it convinced Cas to stick around…

"He's fine."

Cas's voice was clipped and tense, harsher and shorter than he normally sounded. Dean bit his lip, looking back down at Sam as he once again swore to himself to destroy Zachariah for making Cas sound like that. To his relief, though, Sam suddenly groaned and started to shift. Dean quickly looked up at Cas while he gripped Sam's arm, afraid that if he even looked away, Cas would take it as a sign to leave.

"Sam's been wanting to see you, too," Dean loudly explained, to keep the angel there as well as to give his brother a hint of what was going on while he came to. "Dude, we've been worried sick."

There was no reply from Castiel, but Sam was blinking his eyes open slowly, disoriented as he struggled to sit up. Dean helped him to a seated position, still watching Cas pleadingly and loudly saying,

"I'm serious, it's great to see you again, Cas. Me and Sam were just wondering how we were gonna find you."

"Cas?" Sam repeated in a clearly still out of it way, but the name on his tongue seemed to jolt him back to reality. Tensing, then gasping, Sam clambered to his feet in still ungraceful disorientation as his eyes desperately sought his friend. "Cas!"

Dean's hand was still on his shoulder, subtly keeping him back. He didn't want Sam's enthusiasm to scare Cas off, but Sam seemed to understand and held still, hands slightly upraised in an instinctively pacifying manner.

"Cas, thank you," he gasped, putting together what must have happened much quicker than Dean felt  _he_ would have if it had been him. "It's so good to see you! We've been worried. Please… please come back with us. Stay with us for a while."  _While you recover from being violated by your own brother in front of your best friends_ , he added bitterly in his head.

Somehow, he doubted saying that out loud would convince the angel to stay.

Castiel paused, and the two brothers held their breaths with anxiety coloring their eyes. Then, he sighed quietly, bowing his head before murmuring,

"No… it would be uncomfortable."

"For who?" Dean demanded, crossing his arms and ignoring Sam's warning nudge. "Us!? Dude, we-"

"Yes."

"Cas, no," Sam quietly assured him, raising his hands a bit more as though that was going to make Castiel realize how sincere they were. "It wouldn't. Look, man, we  _want_ you there, that's why we've been praying so much. You don't have to be alone. You've got us."

 _Not that we've done him any good whatsoever,_ Dean thought as a wave of guilt rose from his stomach up to his chest, flooding him with cold self-loathing. Because of them, everything that had happened to Cas was that much worse for him. Zachariah had threatened  _them_ if Cas didn't do as he said. Cas had been forced to cooperate because of  _them_ , trying to protect them. Maybe if they hadn't been there, Cas would have been able to fight his way free before Zach had gotten the upper hand.

No wonder Cas wouldn't look at him, Dean thought with icy pain.

"Please," he urged, barely a whisper but that single word was laden with every bit of his emotion. He would make this up to Cas, somehow.

The long, pregnant pause stretched on and on as the brothers waited for Castiel's answer, but he was now staring resolutely at the floor. There was a flush on his cheeks, and they knew with sinking hearts that he was remembering what they had witnessed. They knew he was humiliated to have been seen like that, but they also knew that he knew – or  _hoped_  he knew – that they wouldn't just abandon him now. Surely their prayers for him to come back were proof of that.

"Cas," Dean spoke up again, voice low to cover the way it wanted to break, "I'm begging you here, man. Don't disappear again."

Perhaps the angel could detect all the emotion, the full force of Dean's pleading; perhaps Sam's entreaty had hit home, the reminder that he had a new family now, one who wantedhim around – to be there for him, not to abuse him. Either way, after another long, lingering silence that nearly crackled with growing tension, Castiel sighed again.

"Very well," he answered, the same sharp voice sounding like a stranger's. He hadn't met their eyes once, hadn't even looked up at the two brothers as they breathed a sigh of relief. As long as they could take Cas home… maybe they could start to rebuild and repair what Zachariah had destroyed.


	5. Chapter 5

_The same warnings still apply. There's some significant PTSD going on here, so if that is a sensitive matter for you, please be careful. Love you all!_

 

* * *

_"Hold your wings out, Castiel."_

_He had to, he didn't dare refuse. Not when Zachariah was able and eager to tear the Winchesters apart. Castiel couldn't fight, but maybe if he cooperated, Zachariah would finish with him quickly. But to open his wings, knowing what was coming, he had to fight every natural inclination. He couldn't even breathe, as he'd slowly let his wings unfurl…opening his wings for his brother, in submission, the ultimate humiliation._

_It felt filthy. It felt so filthy, so vile. He could feel Zachariah's hands gliding over the smooth wings, he could feel those fingers slipping in between the feathers where they didn't belong. His soul screamed at the impermissible intrusion, moaned at the sickening feeling that filled him with horror._

_He felt dirty, unclean. More unclean than when he had traveled to Hell. That had been his choice, one he willingly took to rescue Dean Winchester._

_This was NOT his choice. This was far worse._

_He knew Zachariah was once again enjoying what it did to him. Not because of any physically pleasurable sensations, but because it was about the power and control his actions afforded him._

_No one had ever touched Castiel's wings before. It wasn't a taboo, but it was restricted to only angels who had formed inestimably close bonds. Castiel had no such bond with Zachariah, because this wasn't about a bond. It wasn't even about Castiel's disobedience, not really. That was just an excuse that Zachariah could utilize to justify this terrible thing he was doing._

_MORE hands, hands on his wings, touching and groping, caressing and prying. He felt sick. The violation was an atrocity, the degradation was staggering. He was outnumbered and they were all taking a piece of him, and he'd cried aloud at this unspeakable act. If Zachariah alone was horrifying, being ganged up on was even worse._

_Zachariah was forcing him into a submissive role, submitting to HIM, and it was so humiliating that it brought tears to his eyes. This brought him shame as nothing else ever could have, as his own brother stood over him and simply took what he wanted, encouraging the others to join in._

_Castiel was helpless. Even when he fought, there were three of them, and they had held him down so easily. He felt so weak, such an ugly feeling. Weak, powerless – exactly as Zachariah wanted. At the moment, his very soul belonged to Zachariah, owned by the power-hungry angel. He was nothing._

_And Dean… Sam… he knew they were seeing this. As if from far away, he'd heard their shouts, and he knew they understood – at least a little – what was happening. They were seeing him like this, helpless and weak and violated in his forced submission._

_Had they not been there, the humiliation would have been hard enough already. But for them to witness his shame, his weakness, it was more than Castiel could bear. His mind went blank as the invading hands kept running over him pitilessly, and he just prayed that it would be over soon._

_It made him shudder, made him tremble, the memory of those hands, and if he sat still for too long then he could swear they were there again, stroking his wings as they had no right to. It made him sick. He was going to be sick!_

"Cas? Hey! Cas.  _Cas_!"

In the back seat of the Impala, Castiel jolted out of the flashback, breathing hard as his stomach turned over. They seemed to be stopped on the side of the road, and Dean and Sam were both twisted around in their seats to face him. They looked concerned, bordering scared, but Cas had no time to ponder this.

In fact, he barely had enough time to wrestle the door open and scramble out of the car, before he felt – for the first time in his extensive existence – the vomit rising from his stomach and spewing out. Two more car doors slammed, and with a burning face, Cas heard the Winchesters calling to him in alarm.

"I'm fine," he gasped out, trying to push away the hands that were attempting to support him. Yet again, he felt only embarrassment. It wasn't bad enough that the Winchesters had seen him at his weakest, now they were witnessing him fall apart, too? This would never end, and Cas was suddenly filled with despair.

"Hey, come on," Sam quietly urged him, his hovering no more welcome than Dean's attempted contact. He held out a water bottle, which Castiel blindly grabbed. "Get it all up, it's ok. It was just a nightmare-"

"Angels don't sleep," Cas reminded him sharply as he unscrewed the water bottle, then the angel winced. Sam was just trying to help. He shouldn't snap at the man, it was just the tension he felt making him short tempered. But it  _hadn't_ been a nightmare, only a flashback, and that was worse.

Nightmares weren't real.

The flashback had truly happened.

Cas wished it  _was_ just a nightmare, something that would go away when he awoke, but it wasn't. Dean and Sam were quiet now, and the angel saw them trade looks from the corner of his eye as he rinsed out his mouth the way he'd seen Dean do after throwing up. Probably they were rethinking their invitation to stay with them. He was useless, and short-tempered, and weak.

He was supposed to fight for them, protect them… but he hadn't even been able to protect himself. What good was he, when it came down to it? A fallen angel with dwindling power, a target who would be used against them by both sides. Why had he gone against his better judgment and come along with them? He should have left as soon as they were safe from those demons.

Besides, they couldn't  _really_ want him around, after seeing him in such a shameful position. They had to be ashamed of him, to think they were better off without a weakened, useless angel.

Shoulders tightening, Cas stood upright and turned his back on the two. "This was a mistake," he muttered. "I should go."

"Cas,  _no_!"

"Please don't! Please. Please stay."

"Why?" Cas demanded harshly, not turning to look at the two. He couldn't bear to meet their eyes; he couldn't bring himself to meet their gaze, when he knew they had seen it all. How could they even stand to look at him?

"Because," Sam firmly replied. "We're your friends. We wanna help."

"Help?" Cas repeated in disbelief. Again he turned his head, looking over his shoulder, but not at them. "And what could you possibly do to 'help'?"

"That's just it, man," answered Dean, quietly gruff. "It's not about  _doing_ anything. Sometimes it's just about being there. Talk, don't talk. Yell, scream, do the whole silent brooding thing, blow stuff up, bottle it in and bury it deep, it doesn't matter, but don't just take off again!"

"Why not?" Castiel demanded. What difference did it make, anyway? Dean couldn't possibly know what he was going through, neither of them could. They could only imagine, but Castiel knew their imaginations wouldn't even take them close to the full truth.

"Cause you had us worried sick, Cas, that's why not!" It sounded like Dean was getting riled now, but Dean was easily riled, and Cas was not so easily moved. The angel didn't answer, until Dean added, "What the hell would we do if something happened to you, huh?"

"Go on just as you always have, I imagine," Cas sharply returned.

Apparently, the brothers had other ideas, as both of them exploded into protests, arguments, and denials so vehemently that even Castiel paused in surprise. They were talking over each other, both almost angrily refuting what he'd said. It shocked the angel how genuine they sounded.

"You think if something happened to  _Sammy_ that I'd just "go on as always"?!" Dean shouted over Sam, making Cas frown.

"That's different," he growled, turning around at last but still choosing a point in the distance beside them to look at instead of their faces. "He's your brother. Your family."

"And what the  _hell_ do you think  _you_  are, you stupid son of a bitch?"

This time, Cas truly did freeze, a confused frown stretching across his face. He didn't even hear Sam's quiet grumble at Dean to cool it, but Castiel wasn't upset by Dean's outburst. He was just… perplexed. Forget not being related to Dean, he wasn't even the same species, technically. He didn't understand, and that must have showed on his face, because Sam sighed after a minute and said,

"Family doesn't end in blood, Cas. If we lost you, it'd be like... losing Bobby." Another human who had no blood ties to the Winchesters, and yet… Cas knew they  _did_ see the grizzly hunter as a family member, a surrogate father to stand in the place of the man who couldn't really be one. Castiel would have never dreamed that he himself was anywhere close to that elevated status of family, and it threw him for a loop.

He wavered, unsure. The angel's determination to fly away as quickly as he could was shaken, giving Dean just enough time to step forward and grip Cas's arm.

Not to hold him there. Not to physically pull him back into the car. Just so Castiel could feel him there. Just so the angel could feel the sincerity, the actions to back up the words.

"Come home," Dean urged. "Cas, we need you."

Castiel doubted that sincerely, but by now he was too tired to really summon the energy that flying would take anyway. He was still struck by Dean and Sam referring to him as family at all, and it made him just unsure enough to agree to stay – at least, for now. Besides, if the angel was honest with himself? He wanted, desperately wanted, to  _not_  be alone. In the garrison, there were always brothers and sisters he could connect to, but he was cut off, and it had been so terribly lonesome.

Cas's resolve crumbled. He sighed, nodding his agreement, and let Dean and Sam propel him back towards the Impala. Maybe they would tire of him soon, or realize how weak he truly was, but for the moment he had nowhere else in particular to be. He had no "home", despite Dean's urging, but why not.

He was of no further use anywhere else, either.

* * *

 

"Terriel, Terriel. What am I going to do with you?"

Zachariah's voice was sinister and cold in the dark cell, the glee barely covered by false disappointment. Terriel did not believe for a moment that he was disappointed, so much as delighted to have someone else to punish. Zachariah should have been in security, like Terriel, instead of management.

Terriel didn't answer, his vessel's arms stretching uncomfortably upwards from the manacles that chained him to the cell's ceiling. The roles had been reversed, he thought ironically. The guard was now the guarded. He was held in his own cell.

Blood dripped down into Terriel's eyes from a gash on his forehead, courtesy of another silent, stony angel, an enforcer of Zachariah's will – they were the ones guarding him, instead of Terriel's old co-workers. Probably they were afraid that mixed loyalties would lead to the angel's escape.

Terriel couldn't heal the wound on his head, though, or any of his other wounds, while wearing these chains. They were branded with Enochian sigils that bound his grace, keeping him from healing, flight, or communication. He would know… he had designed them.

"I mean, first Castiel," Zachariah went on, circling the prisoner. "Now you? What are we coming to, when angels feel they can just… disobey?"

Terriel still maintained his silence. Any fear he felt was kept behind the silent mask of his vessel's face – his  _bloody_ face. Strangely, Terriel was more upset about that than he was about Zachariah's taunting and threats at the moment. His vessel was injured, and Terriel couldn't heal him.

This vessel, a man named Jason, was his responsibility. He was under Terriel's protection, and he was injured. It was Terriel's duty to heal him and care for him while borrowing his body, but he couldn't. Even though Terriel had ensured that Jason's soul was fast asleep, sparing him the exhausting trial of housing an angel, it still bothered him.

Still, at least he was alive at all. That was more than he could say for the three angels who had helped him get Castiel away from Zachariah. The furious angel had smote them, but Terriel had been betrayed. He had trusted the higher command, convinced that they were righteous and would take immediate action to stop the obviously twisted Zachariah.

Instead, he had found himself here, at the mercy of the very angel he had reported. Terriel stoically hid his emotions, as he had been trained to. His greatest fear was that Zachariah was going to do to him what he'd done to Castiel, but so far it had been purely physical punishment. Perhaps Zachariah was only getting warmed up. Or perhaps he hated Castiel more than he would ever hate Terriel, and it was a punishment reserved solely for the fallen angel.

Whatever his reasons were, Terriel prayed they would hold out.

"You were always such a good soldier," Zachariah continued, circling Terriel. Every time he disappeared behind the angel, Terriel felt his heart rate increase with a fear he couldn't control. He'd rather have eyes on Zachariah, so he wasn't taken unawares.

The other angel guards gave no indication of what was happening, either. It was the same two who had assisted Zachariah in their torture of Castiel. They must be his hand chosen few who would remain loyal to him no matter how many lines he crossed. Terriel could not understand how they willingly join in such cruel behavior, and violate a brother as they had.

Then again, he could not understand why the higher command had not stepped in, why he was now in chains instead of Zachariah. The blow this betrayal had caused had made Terriel easy prey, easy to capture.

"What happened?" sighed Zachariah, shaking his head as he reappeared on Terriel's other side. "What happened to the loyal prison guard? I chose you to assist in capturing the traitor  _because_ you had such a clean record. You were loyal, Terriel! Why the sudden corruption?"

"I, corrupted?" Terriel had intended to remain silent, but the shock of the accusation – coming from  _Zachariah_  – was too much. He would  _never_ have done what Zachariah had. Not even to Lucifer himself.

"You allowed Castiel to escape!" Zachariah snarled, coming to a stop in front of the angel with darkness in his eyes that Terriel had to hide his fear of. "You incited your brothers to raise arms against their superior! You  _disobeyed_!"

Stepping forward, leaning up until his face was inches from Terriel's, Zachariah narrowed his eyes and murmured in a deadly voice,

"But you're too valuable to lose, so don't worry. I'll make you a good soldier again."


	6. Chapter 6

Sam released a weary sigh as he sank down into his seat at Bobby's house, twisting a beer open as he did. His laptop was up and running, waiting for him on the table before him, but Sam paused, lost in thought.

They'd reached Bobby's house after almost ten hours of driving. South Dakota wasn't exactly close by to… well, anything. It was a long trip to make it back, made even longer by the unnatural silence that had filled the Impala. Cas hadn't said a single word. Whenever Sam had checked the rearview mirror, the angel was always staring out the window, looking lost.

By the time they'd reached Bobby's, all three of them were exhausted. Bobby had wisely refrained from grilling Cas about where he'd been and if he was ok, clearly realizing that Cas  _obviously_ wasn't. He'd merely offered the angel the use of his guest bedroom for as long as he chose to stay, adding with gruff sincerity that he hoped Cas stayed on a more or less permanent basis.

Cas hadn't really answered, just nodded without meeting anyone's eyes and gone straight upstairs and shut the door, despite his previous reminder that angels didn't sleep. Meanwhile, Bobby had retired to his own room, Dean had drank until he passed out like he typically did when emotionally drained, and Sam was at his laptop doing research.

There was a frustrating lack of things to actually do research  _on_ , though. What was Sam supposed to type into Google? How to track and kill an evil angel bastard? What to say to a best friend whose soul had been raped by their brother? Angel counseling 101 for humans? What?

But if Dean drowned himself in alcohol to numb the pain, then Sam drowned himself in research. He found himself on some websites on helping loved ones deal with PTSD, which were more or less helpful...ish. The symptoms they described fit Cas a little too well: the isolation, the constant look of shame, the way he wouldn't even  _look_ at him or Dean, the short-temperedness… the flashbacks….

Sighing, Sam leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his hair, before taking another sip of beer. At least Cas had agreed to come home with them. Hopefully, he stayed there, but Sam was half afraid that if he went upstairs right now, Cas would be gone.

A sound made Sam look up quickly, spotting Cas at the bottom of the stairs as though to prove that his fear had been baseless.

"Cas?" he called softly. Cas jumped, whirling to face him with his hands held up as though trying to ward him off. His eyes were huge and fearful, bordering on panic; immediately, Sam held up his own hands. "Whoa, whoa, sorry," he apologized, feeling bad for scaring his friend. Hypervigilance... another symptom. Shit, that hadn't gone according to plan. Their eyes had connected for a second, and that was something, but the angel instantly looked away again.

"I… sorry," Cas muttered, turning to go back up the stairs.

"No, wait." The sooner he could get Cas talking, the better. Sam's eyes flicked over to Dean, stretched out on the couch, but he was dead to the world from the combination of alcohol, exhaustion, and the safety of Bobby's house. There would be no waking him. Besides, maybe Cas would be more likely to open up in a one on one. Sam stood up, moving slowly and staying in Cas's field of vision, and gestured outside. "Wanna go outside and sit?"

"Why."

Because, Sam thought. It was dark outside, so their faces would already be hidden from each other; Cas wouldn't have to worry about avoiding eye contact, and maybe that would make him feel safer. Instead of telling him this, though, Sam simply shrugged and answered,

"Feels good out. It'd be nice to have some company."

He was half expecting Cas to refuse, but after a moment, the angel shrugged silently. This gave Sam hope, and he smiled, then grabbed another beer from the fridge for Cas and led the way outside. It  _did_ feel good out, with the nighttime summer wind blowing gently around them. It was warm, with a sky so clear that millions of sparkling stars could be seen high over their heads.

Sam hoped this would make Cas feel more at home, but he also worried the thought of heaven might remind him of worse things.

Cas wasn't feeling chatty, though – not that Sam had been counting on it. Neither of them spoke as Sam handed Cas the beer, then perched himself on the hood of an old clunker. Though he deliberately left plenty of space for Cas to sit beside him, the angel remained standing. Finally, Sam patted the metal hood.

"Plenty of room," he pointed out quietly, but not insistently. Cas was free to stand if he wanted to. The angel didn't move, and Sam decided to be the first to break the silence. "Cas, listen…" he started. "I can't even imagine what you're going through-"

"No, you can't," agreed Cas in a much harsher voice than Sam was used to, though the Winchester knew it was nothing personal. "So there's really no point in talking about it, is there."

Sam didn't mean to laugh, but he couldn't stop himself. It burst out, short but unbidden, as he shook his head. In the dim moonlight, he saw Cas tense, and quickly explained. "Sorry. Just… damn, you and Dean really are so much alike sometimes."

"Dean is human and I am an angel. He enjoys pie and I do not. He-"

"Cas… yeah, I know," Sam assured him, still smiling in amusement. "I just mean, you have similarities, too. Like not wanting to talk about crap."

For a moment, Cas was silent, then he sighed. "There's no point."

"Look, I just think facing it might be easier in the long run than hiding from this."

Again, there was a long, drawn out moment in which the only sound was the serenading crickets and cicadas in the night. Sam could still see Cas's tense outline against the moonlight, and noted with concerned interest that the angel would periodically roll his shoulders quickly. He guessed that, though he couldn't see the magnificent, snowy owl-esque wings anymore, Cas was flexing and shifting them.

"I'm not hiding."

"Cas," Sam replied as gently as possible, "you disappeared for almost a month. We prayed like crazy."

"I was doing you a favor." Cas's voice was quiet in the darkness, laden with such a depth of pain that Sam winced. They both remained still for a moment, as the angel's words hovered between them. It made no sense to Sam, and he finally asked,

"How was that a favor? We were worried sick."

At first, Cas didn't seem inclined to answer, and Sam thought the conversation might be done for the night. He wouldn't push too hard. The last thing he wanted was for his friend to shut down completely. Cas sighed, though, rolling his shoulders again like he was shaking Zachariah off his wings, and muttered,

"After… after what you saw… you could not want to be around someone so…" But his voice trailed off there. Sam leaned in closer, eyebrows raised in expectation of the rest, but Cas had bowed his head. The angel was visibly tense, apparently not going to finish. Sam could fill in the blank for him, though, with a dozen possible things that Cas might be thinking – but not one of them was true. Pathetic? Weak? Shameful? They saw him as none of this, but which had Cas been meaning?

"What?" Sam pressed, but his only answer was silence. With a sigh, Sam twisted more fully around on the metal hood towards his friend. He hated that the angel, whom they thought so highly of, could have such a low opinion of his own value.

"Cas, listen," he implored, accentuating his words with little shakes of his head. "We  _want_ you around. What do you take us for? People who would just  _abandon_  their friends, especially after going through what you went through? We had never been  _more_ desperate for you to come back with us. The only one with anything to be ashamed of is  _Zach_. And, Cas?"

Sam's eyes grew hard, voice filling with steel and ice as he finished simply, "We're gonna kill him."

It wasn't the idle threat that people often make when angry or irritated with someone. It wasn't even a blustering and furious but empty exclamation that would never  _really_ happen now matter how desired. It was a statement of fact, cold and clear, a promise. The Winchesters had already hated the pompous dick of an angel, but  _now_ … now Zachariah was going to die. They would never, for the rest of their lives, stop hunting him. Whatever it took, their vengeance was unstoppable – it was cold, it was merciless, and it was deadly.

Angel or not, Zachariah should be afraid.

Very... very… afraid.

Cas didn't make any sort of reply, just stared at his untouched beer bottle, but Sam thought some of the tension might have slid from the angel's rigid silhouette. The conversation was obviously over for now, but Sam was happy to have had a chance for even this much.

Realistically, he knew Dean would probably be able to get farther. Cas had always been a little closer to the older Winchester, but Sam couldn't begrudge him that. Besides… if it meant he could help Cas, that was all that mattered.

* * *

 

Terriel took several deep breaths, eyes falling closed so that the sight of the irked but smug Zachariah disappeared from his view. The angels who had been hitting and cutting him had stepped back already, making a big show of wiping his blood from their angel blades. Terriel hung in the chains, knowing that struggling wouldn't get him out. His legs were too tired to hold him, and he sagged. The weight on his arms and shoulders was torturous, but he'd been unable to feel them for hours now.

"You could make this so much easier on yourself, you know."

Zachariah's voice was cajoling and falsely sympathetic, and Terriel didn't deign to respond. As of yet, this was nothing that he couldn't handle. It still bothered him that Jason's body was also suffering, as his vessel, but there was nothing he could do about that at the moment.

More troubling was what Zachariah would do when he realized that some routine beatings weren't going to be enough to break an angelic prison guard.

Despite Zachariah's threats to "re-educate" him into a good soldier – a prospect that rightfully frightened Terriel – they still hadn't dragged him back to heaven. That would have been protocol, but instead they'd remained here, in an Earth facility that the angels had been using for centuries to hold the disobedient while awaiting further orders.

In fact, this had been where he'd first met Castiel, before the angel's last re-education. Terriel had thought the desperate angel, spouting off conspiracy theories about Heaven's plan to  _allow_ the Apocalypse to happen, was crazy. He'd thought Castiel was simply insane for his urgings that Zachariah and the archangels were betraying everything the angels stood for. Just another disobedient. Just one more angel passing through Terriel's watch who would need re-education. Just another delusional, rebellious angel.

Now he wasn't so sure.

For weeks after making his report to the higher command, he'd been left here with no visitors or explanation. Terriel had been perplexed why  _he_ had been put under lock and key. But, he assumed Zachariah was being tracked down for judgment, and that he himself was probably just being held until a full investigation had been completed.

As it had turned out, they'd just been letting him stew, and Terriel had known from the moment Zachariah walked into his cell that he had been terribly, terribly deceived.

"Really, Terriel, this will do you no good. You'll tell me what I want to know, eventually."

No, he really wouldn't. It was more than just a matter of principle; Terriel truly had no answers to Zachariah's questions.

"Tell me. End this. Just tell me, where is Castiel?"

"How could I know?" Terriel replied once again, as he spat out blood. Opening his eyes, he raised his head to watch Zachariah. "He flew away the moment I set him down. I have been imprisoned ever since, so how could I know where he went or where he is now?"

"You… are…  _lying_!" bellowed Zachariah, making Terriel sigh.

This was why they hadn't taken him back to heaven yet. Zachariah had gotten it into his head that Terriel had been working with the rebel all along – which he hadn't – and that he could reveal where Castiel and the Winchesters were hiding – which he couldn't.

The re-education process could  _potentially_  affect his memory, though, if Heaven did not wish for him to recollect having ever been re-educated at all. Obedience was more likely to stick if he believed it was his own idea, and angels often didn't remember anything. Clearly Zachariah didn't dare returning him to heaven and risking losing valuable information until he had Castiel. Which meant, of course, that Terriel was safe from Heaven (but not Zachariah) as long as Castiel remained free.

Which meant, of course, that Terriel was highly interested in Castiel remaining free.

"I'm not lying," Terriel wearily explained to Zachariah now, though he knew it would do no good. "I told you. I don't know."

With a growl of disgust, Zachariah motioned for the other angels to unhook the manacles from the ceiling of the cold cell, leaving Terriel to crumple onto the floor. With hands still bound in the chains, Terriel was left with only the strength of his vessel. After hanging there for days, that strength had dwindled considerably, so he stayed on the dirty floor without moving.

"I will find Castiel," Zachariah snarled, rolling Terriel onto his back with the toe of one glistening shoe. "Count on that. And when I do, you can bet that this time, I'll make  _sure_ his punishment sticks."

With this last promise, Zachariah turned on his heel, leading the other angels out of the cell. The bars slid closed with a violent crash, leaving Terriel alone in the damp, dirty cold.

Wherever Castiel was, Terriel thought as he closed his eyes, he hoped that he was still holding on, and fighting.


	7. Chapter 7

"You mean, he actually talked to you?" Dean asked Sam the next morning in groggy surprise. Cas was outside, and Dean had just stumbled into the kitchen for a mug of coffee when his brother had quickly filled him in. "What'd he say?"

"Not much," Sam admitted, crossing his arms and leaning against the counter. "He thought he was doing us a favor by staying away for so long. Figured we wouldn't want anything to do with him after… you know."

Dean's face was a glower of hatred for Zachariah and exasperation for Cas, and his look clearly said everything that he was thinking because Sam quickly raised his hands.

"I know," he assured Dean, shrugging. "I told him of course we wanted him around."

"Well, let's hope the idiot believes it," sighed Dean, taking a sip of black coffee. He wasn't surprised that Cas would have opened up to Sam at least a little bit. The kid had always been better with the touchy-feely, sensitive, emotional crap. Dean wanted Cas to talk to him, too, and he was desperate to help, but he honestly had no idea what to do or say.

Sam nodded his agreement, then stole a quick look behind him to make sure Cas hadn't come in yet. He lowered his voice and murmured, "Might help for you to talk to him, too. He likes you better. And I started researching ways to kill angels this morning."

Grimly, Dean nodded, a steely flash of death in his eyes. They would need that information in order to kill Zachariah. He didn't care what it took,  _no one_ hurt Cas the way that bastard did and lived to tell the tale. "Good," he growled with malice. "I'll kill that son of a bitch if it's the last thing I do."

Again, Sam nodded in agreement, and Dean wandered out of the kitchen to look for Cas. Uncomfortable or not, there was no way he was gonna sit back while his friend was hurting and not at least give him a chance to talk about it. Dean still had no idea what he was going to say that would do any good, but he had to try.

Castiel was staring off into space, seated on the tailgate of an old, rundown and rusted pickup. His hands were clasped together in front of him as he leaned on his knees, the familiar trench coat warding off a non-existent chill. Sam had warned Dean about the hypervigilance, so he made as much noise as he could while walking up so that Cas would hear him in plenty of time and not be startled.

"Cas," he greeted his friend, sipping out of his coffee mug and shoving a hand in his pocket. He hoped his own awkwardness wasn't too obvious, and didn't deter Cas from opening up if he wanted to. "Morning."

Cas's face tilted slightly, as though about to look at Dean, but his eyes didn't quite reach the Winchester's. Instead, he nodded in reply and muttered, "Dean."

An answer. Good, that was a start at least. Again, Dean was grateful that Sam had gotten the ball rolling a bit, making it easier for him to simply jump in without subtlety now and bluntly state, "Sam said you guys talked a bit last night."

There was no answer this time, so Dean pushed, "And he told you we weren't the kind of people to just dumpour own friends, especially after they've been through some shit. You know that, don't you Cas? You know us."

Cas's jaw tightened slightly as Dean watched him carefully, but after a moment's hesitation, he nodded.

"Then you wanna tell me why you thought we wouldn't want you around?"

"You saw what happened." Cas's voice was clipped and obviously displeased with the direction of the conversation, but that was tough. Playing the good cop was Sam's job, not Dean's, but there was still genuine, almost pleading concern in the hunter's tone as he asked,

"Yeah, but  _why_ , man? Hell, I'm gonna tear Zachariah a new one before I rip his  _lungs_ out, but why would you think we wouldn't wanna be there for  _you_?"

There was a sharp inhale, then Dean saw Cas's fists tighten. If the angel wanted to take a swing at him, Dean wouldn't even fight him, but damn that was going to hurt. Cas could knock his lights out, being an angel. But his friend didn't raise a hand to him, or even raise his voice. Instead, he growled quietly,

"You shouldn't have to be."

Dean blinked, eyeing Cas in confusion. They shouldn't have to be what? There for him? That made no sense at all. "The hell you talking about?"

"You shouldn't  _have_ to be there for me!" Cas snapped back, angrier this time. He was getting worked up, but Dean just stood there and stared. "You shouldn't have to help me,  _you_  shouldn't have to protect  _me!_ This should never have even happened!"

"Well, no shit, we agree with you there-"

"No! I'm an  _angel,_ Dean!" Finally,  _finally_ , Cas's head whipped around, meeting Dean's gaze dead on. The emotion that Dean saw there in his eyes was nearly enough to knock him off his feet, feeling his own heart stop dead in his chest at the raw painthat flooded the angel's gaze.

But still –  _he was finally looking him in the eye!_

"Just cause you're an angel-"

"I'm a  _soldier_! What Zachariah did- I should've… it should never… Don't you getit, Dean?! I'm a soldier, I should have been able to  _stop_ him, and I couldn't! You shouldn't have to be there for me, you shouldn't have to protectme. I'm supposed to protect  _you_ , and I couldn't even-"

Dean was still staring, slack-jawed, as Cas broke off and turned away again. The angel had leaped from the truck bed to his feet, facing the other way with clenched fists at his sides and shoulders shaking with emotion. Dean was just stunned. That was what this was about? Cas thought he should have been able to fight Zach off, that this made him weak?

Guilt, crushing guilt, filled Dean's chest like ice water. Maybe Cas  _could_ have fought those bastards off, or at least tried, if not for him. This was his fault, not Cas's. Zachariah had forced Cas to cooperate by using Dean, and Sam. If nothing else, the angel could probably have flown away before getting caught, but he'd stayed because he wouldn't leave the brothers at Zachariah's mercy.

Swallowing hard, Dean shoved those feelings deep back down into his gut. He wouldn't blame Cas for being angry with him, but this wasn't the time to air his own feelings. He wouldn't make this about him.

"Cas," he said firmly, "you  _do_ protect us, but you're not invincible. There were threeof them, and you had us to worry about." Dean's voice faltered slightly at that, but he quickly forced his way on. "I'm serious, just cause you're a soldier doesn't mean you're gonna win every fight."

Maybe not the most comforting thought, though. Cas's point about being a soldier, Dean could understand that. He was a fighter himself. What if it had been him? How would he have felt if a group of guys had gotten the better of  _him_? Dean shuddered in horror at the thought; he did understand. It would be worse because he was  _supposed_ to be able to fight them off. He was supposed to be strong, a fighter; he was supposed to be able to take care of himself. So if he couldn't, yeah... he'd feel weak, too.

But Cas  _wasn't_ weak, and Dean needed him to understand that. Cas was used to being powerful and he didn't want to be protected. The feeling of needing help was making him feel even weaker, but that was ridiculous and Dean had to nip this in the bud. The angel was still turned around, head bowed, shaking with emotion, as Dean sighed. He leaned against the truck, sipping again from his coffee.

"Look," he said after swallowing the hot drink. "Dude, you  _are_ an angel. Look at how much you  _can_ do. You saved my ass the other day. You saved Sammy from the demons, and you knowthere was no way we were getting out of that without you. You can smite the hell outta all of them with just one blast-"

"What if I can't."

It was less of a question, more of a statement, and that made less sense than anything else he'd said already. Dean stared at the back of Cas's head for a moment, before finally asking,

"What're you talking about? You can, I saw you do it."

"I can  _now_." For the second time – progress! – Cas turned around and met Dean's gaze, but again there was so much anguish there that Dean had to grip the truck a bit harder for support. "I can  _now_ , but I can feel it leaving me. I won't be an angel forevernow. Dean, I am losing my grace, a bit at a time. I can't heal Bobby's legs. I'm getting tirednow when I didn't before. I'm weaker. I'm  _weak_ , Dean, and if you had any sense, you'd leave me now."

Like hell. There was no way Dean was going to do that, and he scoffed, crossing his arms and glaring. "Guess I've got no sense, then," he retorted fiercely. "No wayare we leaving you."

"Dean!" Cas almost sounded desperate now, stepping towards the hunter with the same broken expression that broke Dean's own heart. "I won't be able to protect you! I've alreadyfailed, and it'll only get worse the longer I'm separated from Heaven! What Zachariah did, he was able to do even while I still havesome grace, but I'll only keep getting weaker. Eventually, I won't be an angel at all!"

"So what?"

"So what? All I know how to be  _is_ an angel, and I won't be one! I'll be weak and unable to fight and you're not supposed to have to protect me!"

Cas's intensity had been growing higher and higher the longer their heated conversation went on, but now he seemed to burn out, slumping back down onto the truck's tailgate and leaning his forehead down against his hands. Dean was staring at him once more, forcing his own hot temper to cool down long enough to actually process the words, to try and understand.

They'd known for some time now that Cas's grace had been lessened when he was cut off from heaven. Dean hadn't ever consciously considered that it would continue to lessen, or what that would mean for the angel himself. He hadn't thought about this, or how Cas would feel. He'd been an angel for millennia, and now… now he just… wouldn't be one?

Ok, so that had to be freaking him out, and now, what? Cas thought if he'd already been beaten by Zachariah, that he'd only be easierto beat once his grace was gone? He thought he wouldn't be able to fight at all?

That must be it. Dean continued to stare at his friend, pieces slowly coming together in his mind. Cas had already felt weaker because of his diminished grace, then Zach had come through and pulled  _that_ shit and now Castiel thought he was completely useless. Now he thought he wasn't going to be strong enough for  _anything_ , that he couldn't fight or be of any use, just because eventually he'd be more or less a powerless angel – a human, in other words.

But that was ridiculous. Castiel  _could_ fight, even once he was human, just not in the way he was used to. Zachariah had done everything he could to make Cas feel useless and weak, but Dean would be  _damned_ before he let Zach win.

"That's…no," Dean retorted, shaking his head. He straightened up, moving to stand in front of Cas and grabbing his friend's arm again until the angel met his eyes. "Cas, firstof all, even if you were a full-blown angel it wouldn't mean that we should never have to protect you. Hell, man, it's only fair, you've saved our asses how many times? Just let us return the favor now and then, for crying out loud. It's not some stupid ego thing, it's the way this works."

"Dean-"

"Second of all," he went on, cutting Cas off, "it doesn't matter what you can or can't do. We don't care about you cause you're useful, we care about you cause you're our friend, you idiot. We didn't dump Bobby when he got paralyzed, we're not dumping you now or  _ever_  even if you do lose the rest of your grace."

"I won't be able to fight!"

Enough of this. Scowling, Dean stepped back, gesturing for Cas to come with him. "Ok, get up. Come on, I'm serious, get up."

Castiel sighed, looking away, but Dean's persistence brought him reluctantly to his feet, following Dean over to an open patch amid the wrecked cars and trucks of the junkyard. Dean shrugged out of his topmost layer of shirts, tossing it onto a nearby Beamer. He rolled up his sleeves, explaining to Cas as he did,

"Look, I've seen you fight. You'd kick my asswith the angel blade, grace or no grace, but forget weapons. You're a damngood fighter. To be honest, you're way better than me, you've had thousands of years to practice. But you count on your angel mojo… so if you're worried about losing that someday, you gotta learn how to fight like a human. And that'ssomething I can help with."

"You… want to teach me to fight like a human?"

Cas seemed a bit bewildered, but Dean smiled and nodded shortly. "You're not gonna be "weak" or "unable to fight" or whatever the hell that crap was. Me and Sammy aren't angels, but we sure as hell know how to fight. Alright, show me how they teach angels to make a fist."

From the front door, unseen by the two, Sam and Bobby were watching with smiles on their faces. They couldn't hear everything being said, but they could see what Dean was doing, and they could see that Cas was at least on his feet now. True, there was a distinct lack of enthusiasm, clearly just humoring Dean, but it was still something.

"Looks like that talk you had with him did some good," Bobby said over his shoulder, while Sam leaned his hands against the door frame.

"I think we're actually getting somewhere," he agreed with relief. He chuckled, shaking his head. "Leave it to Dean to try and cheer someone up by punching things."

"You boys should take him on a hunt," Bobby pointed out. "Give the idjit something to  _do_. I know it ain't Zachariah, but maybe smiting the hell outta some demons will cheer him up, remind him what a tough son of a bitch he really is."

Sam nodded, eyes dark, as he murmured in reply, "Show that bastard Zachariah that he didn't win, too." He was making zero progress on finding ways to kill an angel, and he doubted he would find any more than what they already knew. After all, if there  _was_ another way, some demon would have capitalized on it by now, he was positive.

Still, it gave him something to do, kept him from feeling so helpless, and that more than anything convinced him that Bobby was right. Sometimes, just doing  _something_  was enough to keep someone on their feet.

They would keep Cas going; they had to.


	8. Chapter 8

_Flashback scenes in this chapter, and they're kinda icky. If this is a sensitive subject for anyone, please be warned._

* * *

 

Following Bobby's advice, the two hunters took Castiel along with them on their next demon hunt. It was short lived; Cas smote the holy hell out of them, coolness in his eyes as his grace blew the demons to pieces. Dean and Sam were left with their job already done for them, congratulating Cas heartily on the victory.

"Never let them start monologuing, Cas," Dean advised him after a long-winded demon had given them a lengthy speech on how Lucifer was going to win and they would all be slaves of damnation or some other such thing. Dean was too impatient to listen to the whole pile of crap, cutting the demon off mid-prattle. "If they're gonna stand there talking, just take the opening and stab the bastard."

Over the next few days, they cleared out a couple more demons, and Cas gradually became more like his old self. He didn't smile much (but then again, he wasn't much of a jokester), but he at least found it easier to even meet his friends' eyes. Cas marveled that they hadn't told him to leave yet, which made it a bit easier to relax as they went from town to town, hunting demons and other monsters.

Dean continued to teach Cas everything he knew about fighting. Sam was completely on board with the idea, showing the angel the finer points of using a gun, how to disassemble and clean either a shotgun or handgun. They tried sparring with him, but his grace was still far too strong and both ended up unconscious on the ground while a distraught Castiel tried to wake them up. They didn't try  _that_ again.

Today, they were finishing up a fairly easy vampire case; it turned out that beheading wasn't the only way to kill a vampire. Angel smiting was pretty much absolute.

"Another one bites the dust," Dean exclaimed with a dark grin, pulling the celebratory beer bottles out of the cooler they kept in the trunk. He handed one to Cas, who accepted it automatically. The angel was feeling better, at any rate, though he wouldn't describe himself as "fine". He hated that he could still feel Zachariah running his fingers through his feathers, but Cas kept that to himself. He didn't want to bring down the mood of the group.

Besides, he was learning how to "camp", seeing as they couldn't stay in town and there wasn't another one for a few hours. Cas suspected he had something to do with being run out of town. Perhaps he should not have used his grace on the mayor to knock him out from across the room during their rescue mission, but the hysterical man had been driving Castiel crazy.

They  _did_ save him from the vampires, though, he could have been a little grateful.

Dean and Sam had only laughed, though, which made Cas feel better and less like the awkward addition to the group who had no idea how to blend in and kept messing things up for them.

"Great job, Cas!" Sam congratulated him, raising his bottle in a toast. Castiel tried to return the smile, but quickly turned his back on the two as another flashback sprang unbidden to mind.

_The first time Zachariah had ever forced his wings out. Chained down in the prison cell. No guards, they had been dismissed… it was only himself and Zachariah. Kneeling on the floor, hands connected by chains to the frigid ground. He was so exposed. So vulnerable. So helpless._

_"Great job, Castiel," seethed Zachariah with a scowl. "I have the deal of the millennium going on here, and you almost ruined it for me."_

_Pulling on the chains, horrified that Zachariah had ACTUALLY revealed Castiel's wings. Fearful, shocked, trying desperately to hide them. "What are you DOING, Zachariah?! How dare you-"_

_The first time those cruel hands settled onto his wings, sending a jolt of terror and mortification through the angel. Fighting, surprised tears springing to his eyes, struggling, flapping, only to be shoved down to his stomach, held down by Zachariah's foot so he could reach the wings unimpeded._

_Violating, invading, touching, stroking, hands where they didn't belong, while Castiel's terrified pleas reached pitiless ears…_

"Yo! Earth to Castiel, hello!"

There was a strained worry in Dean's voice and Cas quickly snapped out of it, whirling back around. "Yes?" he asked, as normally as possible, but the expression on the hunters' faces told the angel that his flashback hadn't gone unnoticed. He prayed that they wouldn't ask any questions.

For a moment, it looked like Dean was going to mention it, but after a sidelong look, he finally repeated himself. "I said, I hope angels like Beanie Weenies."

"You hope… angels like… _what_?" Nonplussed, Cas stared at Dean. He didn't understand that reference. Dean held up what seemed to be a tin can, apparently holding some sort of human sustenance inside of it, and some kind of metal contraption that he handed to the angel.

Castiel took the offered contraption, along with the can of… Beanie… Weenies… then he stared at Dean. What was he supposed to be doing with this?

"Open that up, me and Sam will get a fire going and grab the water."

They were both gone before Castiel could ask any more questions, but Zachariah was completely put out of his mind as he now focused entirely on the task Dean had set for him. He was meant to get inside the can of Beanie things, most likely with the contraption he'd been handed. There was some kind of gear, two handles, and a winding sort of… thing. He was an angel... surely he could figure this thing out.

Castiel had no idea that he was holding a can opener; he'd never been taught what one was, nor had he ever been taught how to use one. After a moment or two of wrestling with the thing, he had to admit that he had absolutely no idea what he was doing, that this  _thing_ was defeating him. Not wanting to fail in this task that was clearly vital to getting the food, Castiel gave up on the device thingy altogether, and did what he knew how to do best.

He smote the can.

"What…the…hell…?" Sam came to a stop in front of Castiel, his arms full of sticks for the fire, and stared. And stared. And stared. Castiel stared back at him, blinking and completely covered in  _something_ sticky that he didn't  _think_ was blood… did Beanie Weenies bleed?! What sort of food were his human friends  _eating_!?

Apparently, smiting was a rather overly-enthusiastic method of opening a can, and Sam started to laugh. Once he started, he couldn't stop, dropping the wood and doubling over as Cas stood there in frozen shock with his arms slightly spread... covered in Beanie Weenies from the exploded can.

"Did you- what the-?" Dean asked, hurrying over with water bottles. Cas turned to him, quite helplessly, still in a state of shock. He hadn't expected the can to explode with quite so much… vigor. But now Dean was laughing, too, guffawing as he leaned over and clutched the Impala for support. "Did you… did you just… Cas, did you just  _smite_ a can of Beanie Weenies?!"

"I'm… I think so…" Cas managed to reply, filled with trepidation as he worriedly asked, "Is- is it dead?"

The Winchesters lost it completely at that, falling over themselves as they were overcome with the hilarity of the situation. There was Castiel, one of heaven's finest warriors, an angel of the Lord… absolutely covered from head to toe in Beanie Weenies, sizzling slightly from the force of his grace…

…unsure if he had killed it properly.

It was too good, and they couldn't stop laughing as they begged Castiel to neverchange.

Hours later, Castiel sat by the small fire, watching Dean and Sam sleep. He had eaten a little bit (none of those beanie things, though), a sign that more of his grace was leaving. The angel hadn't  _needed_ the food, but there was a small bit of desire for it that hadn't existed before.

But that was a problem for another day. More worrisome at the moment was Zachariah.

He closed his eyes, trying to fight off the images that flowed through his mind, the sensations and the memories that he only wanted to suppress forever. It had started coming back worse than ever after Dean had told Sam that they were going to head back to Bobby's in the morning instead of find another hunt because "he was the oldest so he made the rules, and Sam followed them."

It was just brotherly banter, not even said in earnest; designed only to get a dirty look from Sam, which was exactly what it had accomplished.

Dean couldn't have known the effect those innocent words would have on the angel, though. Now that the two were asleep, though, Castiel didn't have to keep struggling to hide the memories that persisted in overtaking him.

He gave in.

_"Let's get one thing clear, Castiel. I make the rules. You follow them. It's that simple."_

_Hands that wouldn't stop, gripping the feathers and then slicking through, squeezing then stroking. Sobbing now, so disgusted, so afraid._

_"You follow ME. You follow MY orders. You DO NOT screw this up for me!"_

_"Zachariah, please! Stop!"_

_He wouldn't stop, he only pressed on, punishing Castiel for daring to risk Zachariah's promotion, for daring to interfere because of his own convictions and understanding of right and wrong… for not playing by Zachariah's rules._

_"You're no better than those maggots you love so much," sneered Zachariah, leaning in close to Castiel's ear. "You might as well BE one of them. Low. Filthy. Inferior. You're NOTHING, and I'll teach you that, you worm."_

_Cas wanted to die because of what Zachariah was doing, this crime that angels were never supposed to commit. It was a crime of control, shame, emotion. He was tainted. Filthy. Violated. He was nothing._

Cas opened his eyes, pain reflecting in the blue gaze. If only he could bury those memories. His cheeks were flushed bright again with the shame that was filling him up once again. The Winchesters seemed to think that he had nothing to be ashamed of, but they hadn't been the ones with those hands all over them, touching them in a way that they should not have been touched.

Nausea threatened to make him vomit, but Castiel fought the sensation back. His eyes locked onto his two sleeping friends, forcing himself to focus on  _them_. They were supporting him instead of tossing him away. They were trying to help him, fighting with him, instead of abandoning him.

They'd proven themselves as loyal friends, and as long as he focused on that, on them, maybe he could let the rest of the night pass without thinking of Zachariah and his cold, wandering hands. Cas's emotions were so twisted up, so confused and all over the place. He was up and down, while he fought for control, but could find no solace or respite from his memories that weren't even nightmares.

* * *

By the next morning as the hunters finally began to wake up, Castiel had composed himself once again. His own continued weakness angered him, and he was determined to pull himself together instead of turning into some helpless victim. He could NOT allow Zachariah to continue to control him; he would not fall apart and wallow in his pain.

"Ugh," Dean growled as he rolled out of his sleeping bag, never much of a morning person. "Alright… coffee, breakfast, road. In that order."

It only took about an hour and then they were in the Impala once again, on their way back towards Bobby's. It would take another full day at least before they made it. Most likely two, if they ran into any more demons. Which, being the Winchesters, they did.

This time, though, there was a distinct difference.

All of the demons were on the floor of the old barn… and their eyes had been burned out of their sockets.

An angel had already been here.

"Guys… we should go," Sam muttered insistently, hands spread out in front of Dean and Cas as he stepped backwards. "We should  _really_ go."

"Uh, no argument," Dean replied as he grabbed hold of Cas's trench coat and started backing up as well, pulling the angel with him. "We're leaving. Now."

Castiel wasn't going to argue, either. He knew what both of them were thinking; it was the same thing  _he_ was thinking.  _Zachariah might have been here._ But even if it wasn't Zachariah, Cas was still wanted. If any angel found him there, they'd report it back to Zachariah and then the Winchesters would be in danger again. Castiel would notlet that happen.

The fluttering of wings, ordinarily as soft as a whisper, was like a cannon blast in the tense barn. All three whipped around as one, eyes wide. Immediately, Castiel's heart stopped dead in his chest. It wasn't Zachariah…

…but it was one of the two who seemed to live to do his bidding, one of the two who had held Castiel down while Zachariah attacked him. He was smiling, not friendly, but vicious and cruel and full of a hatred that took Castiel's breath away.

"Well, well, well," he snickered in a nasty voice as Dean and Sam tried to step in front of Cas. He pushed them both back, though, an intense glare on his face as he eyed the enemy angel.

"Cas, go!" Dean shouted, trying again to jump in front of his friend. Cas was having none of that, though, refusing to let the angel even close to his humans. They would not be injured in the crossfire.

"Imagine, all this time, Zachariah has been looking for you… and here  _I_ find you quite by accident." The angel laughed, a hideous sound to their ears. Cas's glare deepened, an angel blade sliding out of his trench coat sleeve into his waiting hand.

"Stay back," he warningly growled to Dean and Sam without looking behind him. Eyes narrowed, free hand clenched, Cas crouched and prepared to fight.


	9. Chapter 9

"Josiah," Cas growled, as he and the other angel began to circle each other, both with angel blades in hand. Sam and Dean had finally stepped back, but Dean's heart was racing as he watched. Cas was the best fighter he'd seen… when his grace was at full strength. What if the other angel won this fight?!

"Castiel," returned the other angel, Josiah, with a sneer. His expression was dark, gleeful, anticipatory. Clearly, he believed that he was going to emerge the victor.

Interfering would only mean distracting Cas, though, so Dean had no choice but to grit his teeth and watch in trepidation. One thing was absolutely certain, though: Zachariah was  _not_ going to get his hands on Cas again. If this angel won, then Dean was going to kill him himself, before he could even thinkabout taking Cas away. Never mind that Dean had no angel blade, nor any means of killing the angel. He'd rip the bastard's head right off his shoulders with his bare hands, if necessary.

Sam was gripping the sleeve of Dean's jacket, face pale with worry as the two brothers watched the angels rush each other at last. The blades were short, which meant the combat was close. Cas's arm was a streak of tan and flashing silver, arching towards Josiah with furious energy.

There was a clang, heavy and harsh in the otherwise silent barn, as Josiah deflected the blow and then twisted his blade around in the air in an attempt to slash his opponent's chest. Cas was too quick, though, shifting away so that Josiah met only empty air.

Dean couldn't watch this, no matter how much faith he had in Cas. An idea was forming in his mind, though. If they wanted to take on Zachariah, they were going to need information... information that this son of a bitch might just be able to provide. Josiah was completely distracted by Cas, too, which meant his focus wouldn't be on Dean...

"I'll be right back," he whispered to Sam, who half-glanced at him and then did a double-take.

"What? Where are you going?!"

"Just hold on." Dean didn't give him a chance to ask any more questions, eyeing the fighting angels darkly as he slipped backwards and then sneaked out the door of the barn. His heart was still hammering as he raced for the Impala, but Dean's hunting abilities had taken over completely, leaving him focused and dark and furious.

Josiah had been one of the angels who'd tortured Cas.

Now, Dean was going to see to it that the angel paid.

Grabbing the flask of holy oil that the brothers still had stashed in the trunk, Dean ran back towards the barn. He was already digging through his pockets for his cigarette lighter, as the dark look deepened to an even darker expression that promised certain destruction for Josiah.

Inside, he was relieved to see that Cas was still holding his own, easily the better fighter of the two. Had Dean left it alone, there was no question in his mind now that Castiel would have won, but Dean had no plans to leave it alone. Instead, he traded looks with his brother, knowing that Sammy would understand exactly what the plan was without needing to discuss it first.

Josiah was too focused on Castiel to even give thought to the two hairless apes. Perhaps if he had been a little more concerned with the affairs of humans, he would have known that to turn his back on Sam and Dean Winchester – after hurting their friend – was a terrible, terrible mistake. He paid them no mind, though, and never even noticed Dean making a slow, surreptitious circle around the two fighting angels, laying down a ring of oil as he went.

Both angels were breathing heavily from the fight, fire flashing in their eyes as the angel blades struck again and again, always seeking to plunge into the heart of their opponent, always deflected or blocked. They were focused completely on each other, so Dean prepared to make his move. He looked over at Sammy, waiting until his brother gave him a sharp nod to assure him he was ready.

Dean waited, crouched slightly on the balls of his feet, hands out and ready to make a move. He couldn't just tackle Cas out of the ring of oil. It would be like trying to tackle a granite pillar. Instead, he waited until Cas was close, the angel spinning in his direction.

At just the right moment, Dean grabbed hold of Cas, using the angel's own momentum to whirl him around and outside of the ring of holy oil. Sam lit the cigarette lighter and threw it as Dean moved out of the way, and Josiah was trapped inside the fire that sprang up instantly from the floor.

"Gotcha," Dean snarled, as he and a panting Cas picked themselves slowly up off the floor. There was a trickle of blood dripping from Cas's nose, but the angel ignored that as he approached the fire with an intense, foreboding scowl.

Josiah was  _pissed_.

"How dare you?!" he demanded, turning in a slow circle as though there might be a way out of the ring. There wasn't. "You're a coward, Castiel! Let me out of here!"

"CAS is a coward?" Dean echoed him as he stepped up to the edge of the ring, staring at the angel. The fire reflected in the hunter's eyes, a fire matched only by the blaze of his fury. "Cas?! No, you son of a bitch, let me tell you what a  _coward_  is. A coward is the bastard who would hold another guy down so your boss could do what he did. A coward is a guy who attacks someone who can't even defend himself. A coward is a piece of shit like  _you_."

"You had to know we would be back for you," Sam quietly pointed out, also prowling close like a lion circling his prey. There was a glint of hatred in his own eyes, but he burned cold in comparison to Dean's fiery rage. Sam was ice… deadly, merciless ice. "You were dead from the moment you laid hands on Castiel."

"Oh, I'm so afraid," snickered Josiah mockingly. This only earned an even colder look from Sam, as Dean growled simply,

"You should be."

Perhaps Josiah actually did hear the ruthless promise in Dean's voice this time, because he paused for the briefest of moments and eyed the three warily. It was only for a second, and then he quickly recovered with a scoff. "You're nothing but a traitor," he taunted Castiel, arms crossing.

"I assure you,  _I_ am not the traitor," Cas retorted. "You-"

"Me?" laughed Josiah. "You left your own friend behind. You let him take the fall for you, and believe me… Zachariah has notbeen gentle."

"I did what?" Cas's confusion was clear on his face and in his voice, watching Josiah suspiciously. The other angel only snorted in derision, apparently enjoying himself, before answering,

"Terriel?"

"…who?"

It was obvious that Cas had no idea what Josiah was talking about, but Dean quickly shot a look at Sammy. Terriel, the angel who had rescued Cas! So the idiot had gotten himself caught, had he? He should never have tried to go back to heaven. Not after taking on Zachariah.

Josiah scoffed again, but Sam quickly spoke up quietly to explain. "Terriel. He's the angel who got us outta there. You probably weren't really… you know… aware of what was going on. He helped you escape."

"Eventually," Dean muttered under his breath, ignoring Sam's dirty look. Cas was looking troubled, though, putting pieces together rapidly.

"Where is he?" he demanded, attention still fully on Josiah. "Has he been taken back to Heaven?"

"Back to Heaven?" laughed Josiah with dark glee. "He will be, now that we've found you."

Instantly, Cas turned around to face the Winchesters, having heard everything he needed to. They could see the urgency in the tightness of his expression, as he harshly growled, "I know where Terriel is. If he's the one who rescued me, we need to get him away from Zachariah."

"You know where they are?" Dean asked Cas, eyes sliding slowly, so slowly, back over to the angel still trapped inside the holy fire.

"Yes."

"So… we don't need this guy anymore."

"No."

That was all Dean needed to hear. His expression was stony, a mask of death, as he picked up the flask from where he'd left it on the floor. Oil sloshed around inside, still full enough for Dean's purposes. There was no pity, no mercy in his eyes, as he advanced on one of the angels who had daredto touch Cas.

No one...  _no one_... hurt his friend and lived.

"Wait-" Josiah gasped, eyes widening the instant he saw what was about to happen, but his plea only sealed his fate. All Dean could see or hear was Cas, kneeling on the floor and pleading for  _him_ to stop, fighting so hard to protect himself but outnumbered and outmatched. All Dean saw was Cas, sobbing and shaking while his wings tried to draw in but were spread and held down.

Josiah had not listened to Castiel's pleas. He'd done nothing to help Cas… he'd helped hurt him, and he'd done so unapologetically, even eagerly. And so, the last thing he ever saw was Dean Winchester hefting the flask and slinging the oil all over the angel, soaking him completely.

The oil ignited as it passed through the flames, and within seconds, Josiah was a screaming fireball, a pyre of holy fire as he burned.

The shrieks exploded forth, Josiah screaming in his true voice so that Sam and Dean cried out in pain. They covered their ears, driven to the ground as they bent over and prayed that their heads wouldn't explode. Glass shattered, the walls shook, and it felt to the humans as though there were drills boring into their ears and straight through to their brains.

Both ended up kneeling with their heads down on the floor, ears covered and eyes closed. When the cosmically painful sound finally stopped, they paused for a second, as though to be sure it was truly done.

"He's dead," Cas assured them flatly, gravelly voice tingeing with a grim sense of satisfaction. The hunters sat up, slowly, eyes drawn to the pile of ashes inside the holy fire. There were the imprint of wings, they saw, burned into the floor. Retribution... Josiah's burned wings for Castiel's abused ones.

"Cas-" Sam started, about to congratulate his friend on the victory, but Castiel cut him off.

"Terriel," he growled in concern. "We need to get him away from Zachariah. If he saved me, then I owe him the same. Zachariah must have been furious… I don't want to think about what he's done to Terriel, for helping me."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Dean quickly protested, holding his hands up as he climbed to his feet. He wanted to savor this victory darkly, but the idea of Cas jumping straight back into Zachariah's hands forced a cooler mind back over him. "Cas, let's think about this. You just wanna go in there, guns blazing?"

Beside him, Sam nodded. "Dean's right. We gotta go in smart."

"Besides… Terriel should have done something a  _lot_ faster." Dean still hadn't let that go, irritated that the angel had so obviously seensomething was wrong, but took his own damn sweet time before actually stepping in. Obviously he did want to help the angel, because  _no one_ deserved Zachariah. But still - Cas could have avoided so much trauma if Terriel had just moved sooner. How was Dean supposed to forgive him for that?

Cas, though, apparently already had. "He didn't have to do anything at all," he reminded Dean. "You don't understand how difficult it is for an angel to speak out against a superior. How long did it take for me?"

"Not the point. With what Zachariah was doing to you?!"

"Dean. I'm going after Terriel. With or without you."

Dean sighed, eyeing his friend. Cas was looking him dead in the eye, firm and strong as he ever had been. Whatever he was still most likely feeling because of Zachariah was clearly not as strong as this conviction to rescue his fellow angel. It was a relief – a  _huge_ relief – to see Cas so strong at all.

"Fine," Dean relented, looking from Cas to Sammy, then back to Cas. "You're sure you know where they are?"

"Yes. If they're not back in Heaven, then Zachariah will be keeping him at the angel prison."

"There's an angel prison?" Sam asked in surprise. Cas nodded impatiently, still watching Dean. Time was of the essence. Zachariah would have been taking out his fury on Terriel all this time, and Cas could not allow that to continue just for helping him escape.

They had to reach him,  _now_.

* * *

 

It was a good thing the seemingly abandoned building was also sound-proofed by angel sigils; otherwise, the screams might have started to attract attention. Terriel's voice was ragged by now from those screams, and there were too few tears left to trickle down his bloody cheeks.

Terriel was covered in blood, his vessel's skin slashed to bits. Zachariah had become impatient over the past week with no further leads on Castiel. The longer Castiel remained free, the crueler he got, and by now Terriel was almost longingfor re-education.

"Tell me," growled Zachariah, standing nearby with his arms crossed as another angel dug his blade into Terriel's shoulders and ripped down his chest. "Whereis Castiel?"

"I... don't-" Terriel choked out, but his voice was all but gone from screaming, and he shook his head. He didn't know,  _truly_ didn't know. By now, though, he was convinced beyond any doubt that Castiel had been right all along. Whoever was in charge, it wasn't God. Terriel was faithful and loyal, and every piece of his heart knew his Father wouldn't condone these things… wouldn't condone what had been done to Castiel, either.

"Look, it's simple," Zachariah tried again, switching tactics with a cheery smile that frightened Terriel very much. "You tell us what we want to know, and…" He pretended to ponder for a moment, then finished, "I'll un-break your legs."

"Wh-" Terriel's question was broken off by another agonized, throat-ripping scream, as the angel who was beating him used his full strength to shatter both of his shins. He was on fire, he was  _burning_ , and his ruined legs couldn't hold him.

Instead, he sagged into the manacles, blood from his wrists dripping down his arms. Dizzily, Terriel wondered how much blood his vessel even had left, to have lost so much. He was once again grateful that Jason was fast asleep and would never feel any of this.

So far, Zachariah had done nothing to Terriel's wings, but he still feared it was coming. The physical pain was terrible, but he could handle this. He could handle it… he could…...handle...

…with his grace bound, Terriel was as good as human, which meant unconsciousness was rising up to meet him. His vision was turning grey, and then black, as the chains were unhooked from the ceiling. Terriel cried out one more time as his broken legs jostled terribly when he hit the ground, but then he slumped, falling completely still.

The last thing he heard was Zachariah, speaking to the other: "Patience. If we can't get to him, maybe we can make him come to us."


	10. Chapter 10

"No. Absolutely not."

"Dean, we haveto get Terriel out! It's my fault that Zachariah captured him-"

"No, it's his own damn fault for running right back to him!"

Sam looked back and forth between Dean and Cas, listening to the heated argument. It was all they could do to keep the angel from flying off right away to find Terriel, but Sam agreed with Dean. It just wouldn't be a good idea for Cas to fly right back into Zach's hands.

On the flip side, he agreed with Cas, as well. They'd only met Terriel very briefly, but the angel had clearlyput himself at great risk and broken through millennia of angel "rules" to defend Cas and stop Zachariah. Besides, from a strategic standpoint, they might have an ally in the angel.

From a moral standpoint, though, Terriel simply didn't deserve whatever Zach was most likely doing to him.

"Dean, we should check it out," Sam put in, causing his older brother to turn towards him in exasperation.

"Look, I'm not saying don't do  _anything_ ," Dean protested. "I don't wanna leave the guy there. I'm just saying, let's not just run in there and end up right back where we started from."

"We don't have  _time_ -" started Cas, but this time it was Sam who cut him off.

"We have time to come up with a reasonable plan, Cas. We'll get him out, don't worry."

There was something soothing and reassuring in Sam's low, calm, solid voice that at least allowed Cas to sigh slightly with impatience, but nod. Sam nodded back to him, offering the angel a sympathetic look and a squeeze on the shoulder. Together, the three headed silently back towards the Impala, as quickly as possible.

It was agreed that they would first drive back to Bobby's, before anything else. That would buy them a little bit of time to gather what they knew, to think things over, and come up with a plan. As Sam pointed out to Cas softly, he would be no use to Terriel if Zachariah got his hands on him.

Clearly, Cas still wanted to just go, to reach the other angel as fast as possible, but even he had to see the logic in what the Winchesters were saying. The fight had done him some good, though; his victory over Josiah had given him a confidence boost, helping to remind him that he  _was_ strong enough to fight.

Sam could see it, as he watched Cas furtively in the rearview mirror. The angel was silent, but instead of staring out the window with a lost expression, he was glaring straight forward with a brow furrowed in intense thought. It was good that he had something to focus on, something to  _do_ , some task to help take his mind off of everything.

Besides, Sam thought as they drove, if Cas could defeat Zachariah now, that would be infinitely helpful to his state of mind and emotions.

This might be exactly what they had been waiting for.

"There you idjits are," Bobby greeted them as the trio piled into his living room, all three silent and deep in thought. "What's going on?"

"We might have found Zachariah," growled Dean, quickly filling the older hunter in on everything that had happened. Cas didn't add much, merely nodding slightly when Bobby offered him congratulations on beating Josiah.

"The question now is, how do we get Terriel away from Zachariah without getting caught ourselves," Sam pointed out when Dean was finished with the story. "Dean and I are only going to be so much use. If Zachariah shows up, Cas is the only one who can fight him."

"Why don't we just do the angel banishing sigil blood thing?" Dean suggested, but Castiel quickly shot that down.

"No. That would banish  _all_ the angels in a half mile radius," he pointed out. "All of us. That would include Terriel, and then he would be in even worse trouble."

Frowning, Sam looked to Cas, clarifying, "A half mile radius? Exactly?"

"Approximately. Why?"

So then, all they really needed was for whoever was doing the banishing to be at least a half mile or so away from wherever Terriel was being held. If they could draw Zachariah to them… and that should be easily accomplished, if they could convince Zachariah that they had what he wanted…

A smile, cunning and dark, broke out across Sam's face as he traded a look with Dean. Clearly, his older brother had come to the same conclusion that he had. Both of them nodded, then turned to Castiel.

"Ok, here's the plan…"

* * *

 

"Still don't understand why we couldn't drive here," grumbled Dean. He shook his head to clear it, while Cas stepped back and looked around. There was a wary look on the angel's face, not paying attention to Dean's complaints about being zapped here. Sam didn't complain (though traveling via Angel Air truly  _was_ disorienting, at best), knowing that Cas had wanted to get there as soon as possible.

Frowning, Sam looked around. "How far did we go? Are we still in South Dakota?" he asked in surprise. Cas nodded.

"Yes. We're about an hour east from Bobby's, actually. The prison is disguised as a bungalow, about a quarter mile from here."

"And we couldn't drive, because…?"

"Let it go, Dean," Sam advised with a grin, clapping his brother on the shoulder. "You ready?"

"As I'll ever be. I'll get Zach outta there, then give you a call to come get me, Cas." Which meant getting zapped around  _again_. The things Dean did for his friends…

Cas nodded, then reminded the hunter, "You have to be at least half a mile away from me, or I'll be banished, too."

"Right." Quickly, Dean hurried off down the gravel road they were on, in the opposite direction that Cas had indicated the angel jail to be. They were definitelyin South Dakota; the only thing around him was trees, and more trees, and there was a chill in the cool Northern air that made Dean glad he still had his three layers.

While he jogged quickly along, Dean pulled out his knife, gripping the blade but not yet making the cuts. The banishing sigil required blood – a gift he was only too happy to provide, to screw Zach over. He'd have been happier to kill the son of a bitch, but it would have been too hard to focus on Zach, his angel pal,  _and_  a likely wounded Terriel.

When Dean had figured he'd gone far enough, he slowed to a halt and looked around. There was a rotting tree nearby, toppled over by the road to reveal the stump, devoid of bark. That would work. Quickly, Dean dug the knife blade into the flesh of his palms, grunting only once in pain. The blood flowed freer as he squeezed his fist a couple of times, then drew the sigil onto the flat of the tree stump.

"Ok," he said out loud, voice gravelly and pissed. "Zachariah, wherever the hell you are, come get me, you son of a bitch! That's right, I'm prayin', so you'd better get your ass here! We're gonna settle this once and for all! If you win, you get Michael's vessel… if I win, I get your headon a stick!"

There. If that didn't bring Zach running, Dean didn't know what would.

Of course, he didn't have the slightest intention of letting the angel win anything. As soon as Dean heard wings, he was gonna slap his hand on that sigil, not giving Zachariah a chance to even open his mouth. Dean poised, ready. His hand was nearly itching with anticipation, prepared to blast Zach back to wherever-the-hell. He waited… waited…

THERE! Even with his eyes closed, Dean's highly trained hunter's ears could pick up the just barely perceptible sound of flapping wings, and he reacted instantly. Slamming his hand down onto the trunk, Dean finished the blood sigil to banish any angel nearby.

There was a blinding light, so powerful that Dean had to turn his head, hand up to ward off the brightness. He could hear a shocked but distinct "No!" and then there was absolutely nothing.

Another one bit the dust.

If only the sigil wasable to kill Zachariah, Dean thought with a sigh, but at least he'd be out of the way long enough for them to grab Terriel and get the hell outta Dodge. Closing his eyes again, Dean said,

"Cas, breaker breaker, I pray you come get me the hell outta here so we can get home-"

"I'm here, Dean." There was a touch on his forehead, and Dean's entire being was yanked through space to be deposited down next to Sam outside a sturdy little bungalow at the end of the gravel road. Dean's eyes widened, arms extending to help himself find his balance.

"Whoa," he muttered, turning to Cas as the angel's trench coat fluttered back into place from the flight. "Damn it, next time we  _drive_."

"So it worked?" Sam asked urgently, to which Dean nodded.

"It's bye bye, Zachariah, and hello, Terriel," he answered. "What's the story here?"

"Well, we cased the place, nothing going on inside that we can tell," Sam replied. "Cas doesn't sense any angels."

With a frown, Dean pointed out, "Wait, shouldn't you at least be able to sense Terriel? We're sure he's here, right?"

Cas nodded shortly, his back against the bungalow's wall as he peered inside cautiously from around the edge of the window. "They will have bound his grace," he explained briefly, "so I won't be able to sense him. We need to hurry, Zachariah will be back."

"Don't have to tell metwice," muttered Dean, leading the way around to the front door. He gripped the doorknob, glanced at the other two to make sure they were ready, then thrust the door open.

Inside, predictably, it looked absolutely nothing like an old country bungalow. The angels apparently weren't above using a good trick twice; they had disguised the building. Inside, it was similar to the building they'd contained Alistair in: cold, dark, and dripping. Everything was metal and shadows. The front room that they had burst into was small and unfurnished but for a table and a couple of chairs over which a single bare lightbulb hung. The walls were covered in Enochian sigils, none of which meant anything to Sam or Dean.

In the back, though, was a heavy door, and it was through this door that the trio proceeded now. They were unchallenged; no one else was in sight, friendly or otherwise. Still, they went cautiously, with Dean leading the way, through to the second room.

This second room was even colder and danker, with a row of three barred cells along the back wall. Only the center one was occupied, its prisoner in a bloody heap on the floor.

"Terriel!" Sam gasped, leading the way over. He was already reaching for the door when a hoarse voice choked out,

"Don't! Don't touch… the door!"

"Well, he's alive," Dean pointed out, grabbing Sammy by the back of the shirt and pulling him back, in case he had considered ignoring the ominous words. The pile on the floor shifted, and they heard a clank of metal chains.

"Terriel, we've come to get you out," Cas growled, striding over to the caged angel and squatting down. "How badly are you injured?"

"Very badly." Terriel shifted again, this time raising his head and uncurling his body so that they could see him. The two humans winced, trading a swift look. 'Very badly' was right.

Cas looked pained, also wincing. Gruffly, he asked, "You… you rescued me from Zachariah?"

There was a sigh, then Terriel answered weakly, "Too late, I'm afraid. I'm… I'm sorry, brother."

"Yeah, ok, I hate to break up this little moment," Dean interrupted, tapping his watch, "but maybe we could have this conversation on the road."

"Right," Castiel said quickly, straightening back up. His eyes went to the walls, covered in the sigils, though it didn't seem like he could make heads or tails out of it, either. "You said not to touch the door."

"No... it is designed… to prevent escape. The sigils... Forcing the door open… it would just… kill you."

"Well, isn't that just great," grumbled Dean. "Where's the key, then?"

Weakly, Terriel pointed towards the wall, chains rattling again as he moved. They could see the sigils carved into these chains as well, realizing this was probably how his grace was being bound. "The sigils," he murmured. "Obliterate… the fourth… first… and tenth. In that order."

"You're sure?" Sam asked, hating to point out that the angel was so injured and out of it that he might not be as coherent as they could hope. Terriel only nodded, though, his one eye that wasn'tswollen shut meeting Sam's squarely.

"I… designed them. I am sure."

His voice was getting weaker by the second. It looked like he was still oozing blood from wounds that were gaping a bit too much to close on their own, and they had no idea how long it would take Zachariah to get back. Quickly, Castiel flew to the wall, following Terriel's directions with determined eyes. Taking his angel blade, he drew a line through the fourth, first, then tenth sigil that had been carved into the wall.

Inside the cell, the manacles fell from Terriel's wrists, and the door creaked open on its rusty hinges. Dean hurried in, pulling the beaten angel up. Terriel instantly cried out, yelling for Dean to stop. Too late, the hunter saw the ghastly white bone sticking out of one leg, the odd angle of the other, and he swore. Two broken legs… that would slow the angel's escape.

"Why aren't you healing?" Dean demanded in concern, given that they'd unbound Terriel's grace. Shouldn't he have snapped right back together? "Cas, can you do something?"

Castiel had hurried back over to them, nodding. Just as he reached them, though, a voice suddenly said,

"'Fraid not, gentlemen."

Zachariah! The blood drained from Sam, Dean, and Cas's faces as they all whirled around in dismay! There he was, standing with his hands clasped behind him, grinning like a kid in a candy shop. Beside him, his other angel was waiting with angel blade in hand and a smirk on his face.

"But- I banished your ass!" Dean gasped, one hand on Cas and the other still on Terriel. He couldn't have gotten back this fast. They  _never_ came back this fast.

"Nope, sorry," retorted Zachariah with an arrogant shrug. "That was just Stunt Angel Number Four that I sent to collect you. Did you really think I was going to just come when you called? Dean, Dean, Dean. You-"

There was a flurry of movement and flannel, as Sam suddenly shot forward past the other three. Zachariah was still in the middle of talking when the hunter physically leaped onto his back, long limbs wrapping around the furious angel.

"RUN!" Sam shouted, grappling with Zachariah, fighting to keep his hold. He could slow the angel down for only seconds, but just long enough for the others to escape. The other angel was rushing Dean and Cas, and Castiel had only a split second to decide what to do.

Time froze, everything slowing down, as the angel assessed the scene in the blink of an eye. He didn't have time to gather Dean and Terriel  _and_ reach Sam, and get them all out of there safely. On his left, Zachariah was already throwing Sam to the floor with wrath sizzling from his grace. There would be no reaching him; the hunter had sacrificed himself to buy time for the others.

On his right, Dean was shouting at Sam in fear for his brother, and Terriel was still too weak to heal or fly. The other angel was about to overtake them, if they didn't fly  _now_.

"Cas, TAKE THEM AND GO!" Sam roared, as Dean yelled,

"SAM! NO!"

Castiel made his choice, whirling back around to face Dean and Terriel. "I'm sorry, Sam," he said softly… before reaching out and tapping two fingers to the foreheads of both Dean and Terriel. "But I'm  _not_ leaving you here alone."

"NO-" But Dean was gone before he could even finish yelling. The other angel reached Cas half a second too late to stop him from sending Dean and the injured Terriel away. A furious fist connected hard with the side of Cas's head, and then everything went dark.


	11. Chapter 11

_The same warnings still apply. There's nothing sexually graphic in here but the undertones and overall theme is not pretty, and not taken lightly. Please be careful if this is a sensitive subject for you._

* * *

 

"NO!" It was too late, he was  _t_ oo damn late! By the time Dean had stopped yelling, he was staring at a shocked looking Bobby, and Cas was nowhere in sight. "SON of a BITCH!"

Dean was on his feet in seconds, leaving the injured Terriel wincing on the floor, as Bobby stared between the two in confusion.

"What happened?!" the older hunter demanded, then frowned as Dean punched the solid wood wall –  _hard_. "Dean! What happened? Where's Sam and Cas?"

"Son of a bitch, son of a  _BITCH!_ " Shaking, actually  _shaking_ with rage and fear, Dean stormed over to Bobby's desk and cleared it with one fierce sweep of his arm. How could Cas have  _done_ that?! Why had the bastard  _stayed behind_?! Dean  _knew_ he'd had time to fly with them, they could have gone back for Sam!

Sam wasn't the one Zachariah wanted,  _Cas_ was, and he'd  _left_ himself there! There was  _no_ way Zach wasn't going to start on his wings again, the  _son of a bitch_!

"Dean, STOP!" Bobby finally shouted, probably hoping to keep at least part of his house in one piece. "Sit your ass down and tell me what happened!"

"Dean… Dean Winchester…"

Dean spun around, glaring at Terriel. The angel was pulling himself up slowly, painfully, dragging his broken legs behind him. No, make that broken leg. One seemed to have re-straightened, as his grace slowly started to kick back in.

"You," Dean snapped, storming back over to Terriel and squatting down beside him. "Can you fly us back there?!"

But Terriel was already shaking his head regretfully. "Not yet," he softly replied. "But I will soon. I will go back for your brother and Castiel. I promise you."

"No,  _we_ will go back for my brother and Cas, and I'm gonna  _kill_ Zachariah once and for all!"

"Will one of you two tell me what happened?!"

With a sigh, Terriel tried to pull himself up to his feet, but couldn't quite make it just yet. Slumping back down on the floor in exhaustion, he turned to the hunter and began, "Bobby Singer. My name is Terriel-"

"I know who you are, idjit, I asked what happened!"

Dean left Terriel to explain, while he started pacing the living room with fury in his footsteps. Sammy…  _damn it_. Why the hell had he done that? It wasn't Sam's job to make those kinds of sacrifices, it was Dean's. No matter how big – abnormally big – Sammy got, he was still Dean's kid brother and always would be. It was Dean's job to throw himself on the proverbial grenade, NOT Sammy's. If anything happened to his brother,  _anything_ , what the HELL was Dean supposed to do?!

And  _Cas_. Dean was on the verge of a panic attack himself. Cas was his best friend, and now he was right back in Zachariah's hands.  _Exactly_ where Dean had tried to keep him out of. Guilt crept in again, making his insides churn; why hadn't he waited to make  _sure_ it was Zachariah he was blasting away, out in the woods?! He should have made sure, and maybe Cas wouldn't be in this position! Dean just keptputting Cas in danger, and it was killing him!

All Dean could see was Zachariah attacking Cas's wings again, Cas helpless to stop him. Dean wanted to rip something to shreds, feeling a sick, sick pit in his stomach. Cas had just started recovering… what would this do to him? Zach was going to breakhim if they didn't go get him out,  _now_.

He thought again of the expression of shame Cas had worn for weeks, the sobbing in his voice as he pleaded for Zachariah to stop, the way he couldn't look anyone in the eye for so long… Dean almost threw up. He couldn't just sit there. They needed to go, right that second.

"Can you walk yet?" Dean demanded, spinning around and pointing at Terriel. The angel hesitated, looked down at his legs, and then nodded.

"Yes."

Terriel was lying through his teeth, Dean knew the look, but his first obligation was to his brother and Cas. If that meant pushing Terriel, so be it. "Good," he snapped, walking over and giving the angel a hand. One leg was still obviously broken, but Terriel managed to stand on his one good leg, wrapping an arm around Dean's shoulders for support.

"You can't go rushing back in there-" Bobby started, but he was cut off.

"That's  _exactly_ what I'm doing," snarled Dean, and Bobby didn't try to stop him again. There were only a few things that could put Dean in this sort of a temper, and threatening the people he loved was one of them. Bobby wasn't going to get through to him. Absolutely nothing would.

Together, Dean and Terriel managed to make it out Bobby's door and down to where the Impala was waiting. Terriel was still healing slowly – way too slowly for Dean's taste – so Dean had to help him get lowered carefully into the shotgun seat.

 _Sammy's_ seat. And when Sam wasn't there,  _Cas's_  seat. Both of which were now Zachariah's prisoners, damn it all to hell.

"Ok, here's the deal," Dean growled as he slid behind the wheel and peeled out of Bobby's yard, scattering rocks and dust behind him. "The  _second_  you can fly again, we're pulling over and you can take us the rest of the way." He would deal with the damn zapping around if it meant getting to Sammy and Cas that much faster.

Terriel nodded, his face still tight with pain. "Perhaps we should use the time to come up with a strategy," he suggested quietly. "Otherwise, you will merely be handing yourself and me back to Zachariah, and then there will be no one to stop him."

"Fine! What do you suggest?!"

Dean's voice was harsh, and he was driving far too recklessly to be legal by human laws, but Terriel didn't comment. Even a blind man would have seen how frightened Dean was – Terriel admired the loyalty. It was qualities like this that led him to believe his Father had known exactly what he was doing when creating these strange little creatures that Terriel felt so led to protect.

Fallen, ignorant, wasteful, brutish in many cases… but loyal and true and filled with conviction. Terriel understood why Castiel had sided with these humans.

Terriel felt his other leg pulling itself back together, and he silently made his apologies to Jason, his vessel, once again. His grace had been bound for over a month, and it wasn't a simple matter of snapping his fingers to recharge. It would take a while, and he would recover the power of flight before he was healed – which meant he would be going into battle at  _maybe_ a quarter strength. He owed it to Castiel, though.

"His grace is diminishing, isn't it?" the angel asked into the silent car, and noted Dean's hands gripping the wheel harder in another burst of anger and worry.

"Yes. Why?!"

Terriel sighed, shaking his head. "Castiel was one of the fiercest warriors in Heaven. It's not surprising that he was the one who finally managed to break through Hell's defenses and pull you out. But without his full grace to power him, I'm afraid a fight between Zachariah and Castiel would not end well."

With a vicious snort, Dean muttered, "Yeah, too bad they're not human, Cas would kick his friggin'  _ass_."

Terriel nodded agreement absently, thinking things over, then suddenly tensed. Dean noticed immediately, demanding, "What?!"

"It's Sam."

" _WHAT?!_ "

Dean was nearly beside himself, but Terriel waved him off, frowning and listening hard. "He's praying to me," he explained briefly, listening to what the younger Winchester was frantically trying to tell him. Terriel's eyes widened, as he whispered, "Oh no…"

* * *

Sam was weak with relief as he saw Cas turn to Dean and Terriel, convinced that the angel was going to escape. A second later, though, his heart sank as he realized what Castiel had done.  _Why_?! Sam had known what he was doing, he'd been willing to stay behind if it meant Cas got out. Why had the angel  _stayed_?

"Cas, no!" he yelled as he saw his friend go down hard from the blow to the head.

"And you," Zachariah snarled, his voice menacing as he grabbed the human by his shoulder. He yanked upwards, and Sam felt his arm dislocate. He couldn't bite back the shout of pain, but he glared stubbornly at the furious angel.

"Go to hell," he snarled, then gasped again as Zachariah started dragging him backwards, towards the cells.

"Not today, sport," Zach cheerfully replied, mood shifting so fast once again that it made Sam's head spin. "That's where you'llbe headed. So you just sit tight right here while I deal with your little pal, 'Cas'."

"Stay away from him!" Sam shouted, struggling uselessly as Zachariah threw him into the first cell and slammed the door. This done, Zachariah stormed back over to where the other angel was standing over an unconscious Castiel.

"I've clearly been  _way_ too easy on him," Zach snarled, before turning to the other angel. "Fix those sigils. He's not going anywhere."

The sigils in place, Zachariah snapped his fingers to attach the heavy manacles to Cas's wrists, the other ends connecting themselves to the floor. No need to put him in a cage; there wouldn't be enough room for his wings, and Zachariah wasn'tgoing to spare those this time. Oh, Castiel was going to  _pay_. And he was just starting to come around… perfect.

"Remember this?" Zachariah asked with a smirk as Cas slowly blinked his eyes open. "We've been here before, haven't we? This is the same place where we did this the first time."

It took Cas a second to get his bearings, a little bleary at first, but then jolting upright as soon as everything hit. With the grace-binding chains, he could only get up as far as his knees, so he had to kneel on the floor as he gazed up at Zachariah in horror.

"Zachariah…" But there was no point in pleading. Cas knew it. The other angel wasn't going to show him any mercy in the slightest. Cas knew what was coming, and he couldn't stop the tears from rising in his eyes. Not again… he couldn't go through this again… Sam was shouting in the background, furiously demanding that Zachariah stop, but this fell on deaf ears.

Zachariah's hand fell heavily on Cas's back, a few sharp words of Latin and once again the room was filled with blinding light. When it faded away, the enormous white and brown-grey streaked wings shimmered softly in the dark, damp prison.

Castiel immediately pulled the wings in close to his body, his now bare torso not nearly wide enough to hide the wings behind. His head bowed, eyes falling to the floor and then squeezing shut as a tear dripped down. He couldn't do this again.

"Cas!" Sam shouted, watching his friend in horror. Wary of Terriel's previous warning, he gripped the bars of the cage he was in, but didn't try to force them open. His dislocated arm was screaming, but all the hunter could think about was his friend. "Cas! Cas, listen to me.  _Listen to me_! Cas, remember everything we told you!"

He couldn't stop them, DAMN it all, he couldn't do anything to keep the two angels from what was certainly coming. But that didn't mean he wasn't going to try.

"Zachariah, you bastard," he snarled. "I'm going to  _kill_ you. You're gonna go just like your pal, Josiah!"

Zachariah turned to Sam as though he was merely a mild annoyance, eyebrow raised. "Josiah is on a mission of his own," he retorted, bringing a cold smile to Sam's lips.

"No," the hunter said, voice deadly soft, smile terrifying. "No… we barbecued him… alive. And you're next."

This didn't elicit much of a reaction from Zachariah, but he did regard Sam for a moment in mild surprise, before finally murmuring, "Hmm." He was quiet for another moment, then suddenly said, "You know that infuriating brother of yours is going to come back for you and his boyfriend here."

Sam didknow that, but Zach acknowledging it so calmly didn't sound like a good sign. He didn't answer, narrowing his eyes and glaring instead. Zach paid no mind, but a smile was forming on the angel's lips, and that was an even worse sign. Whatever he was thinking, though, Zachariah didn't explain. Instead, he turned around, nodding to the other angel.

"Take a break," he suggested, gesturing towards Castiel, chained down to the floor. "Have some fun with him, you've earned it. I have to make a call."

"NO!" Sam shouted, moving along the barred cell to get as close to Cas as he could – way too far. "No! Don't! Stay away from him, you  _bastard_!"

Zachariah was grinning as he disappeared through the door, leaving the other angel to smirk down at a terrified Cas.

"Domiel," the warrior whispered, wings pulling back even harder in an attempt to hide themselves.

"Just you and me," growled Domiel, giving Cas a hard kick so that he fell forward, catching himself on his hands. A heavy foot on his back pressed him down to the floor, and then Domiel had one knee on Cas to hold him down, the other knee on the ground beside him. Sam was shouting his head off in the cell, but he couldn't do anything as Domiel leaned forward, sinking both hands into Cas's wings.

"You  _bastard_!" Sam yelled, hitting the bars hard with a helpless, terrified smack. "Cas…  _Cas_! Cas, please,  _listen to me_ , hold on! You've gotta  _hold on_! Look at me, just at me!"

It turned his stomach to watch, but Sam couldn't look away. He had to hold Cas's gaze as his friend actually looked up, tear-filled eyes locking onto him. Sam wouldn't look away, wouldn't let Cas think he was ashamed of him. "That's it," he encouraged. "Just look at me."

"Sam…" It was barely a whisper, and then Cas cried out again, trying to push himself up off his stomach, but pinned down by Domiel's knee. The other angel was enjoying this fartoo much, and even though Terriel had assured the humans that there was nothing sexual about this act, Domiel was seemed too delighted for Sam's comfort.

Cas's wings shuddered, straining to flap Domiel off of him, but unable. It wasn't until Domiel leaned down close to Cas's ear and whispered, "Keep struggling, I like that," that he finally sagged to the floor in terrified defeat.

"NO!" Sam yelled again, so sickened that he nearly threw up, his gut clenching in absolute dismay and an ice cold fire. It was too horrifying for words, but it only got ten times worse when Zachariah walked back in with a bounce in his step.

"Alrighty then," he cheerfully exclaimed, reaching down to grab Cas's chin and jerk his head back. Zach smiled, seemingly pleased at the tears running down Cas's face, as he said, "We're gonna have some visitors soon, so let's roll out the welcome

"Wait, what does that mean?" demanded Sam, then stopped cold as two more shapes suddenly appeared before his eyes. Two more men, looking around the room with interest.

Their eyes were jet black.

"Well, this is a surprise," one of them said, taking in the scene. "But let's forget the pleasantries. Lucifer says you told him you have his vessel?"

Sam's heart sank as Zachariah nodded towards him, and his expression turning stony as he began to pray silently to the only angel who was likely to help them.  _"Terriel,"_ he thought frantically.  _"I hope you can hear me. I know Dean's coming, but you have to HURRY."_

"He's right here, all packaged and ready for you," Zachariah retorted, his voice growing colder with hatred. He stepped towards the demons, grace bristling. "You can have him, you piece of filth, when and  _only_ when I have Michael's vessel. Then we can get this party started."

"Fine," the other demon grumbled, looking around the room still and stopping with a smile when he saw Cas. Cas, chained down, tears in his eyes, wings spread out wide, Domiel still kneeling on him… the smile got bigger. "And what exactly is going on here? That's some nice, pretty wings there."

Zachariah's eyes followed his gaze, and then the angel paused, a thought dawning in his cruel eyes. His smile grew slowly, and Sam's heart stopped as he read exactly where Zachariah's thoughts were going.

"While we wait," the angel said with a sinister look, "I'm sure you know Castiel?"

 _"Oh GOD, Terriel! The demons!"_ Sam's prayers were truly desperate now. He watched as Cas shook with fear, fighting now as hard as he could while the demons approached with glee.  _"The DEMONS… Cas… Terriel, we need you NOW!"_


	12. Chapter 12

_Warnings, warnings, warnings. Please, if the subject of rape, even in an unconventional form such as this, is in any way a bad trigger for you, tread very carefully here. This is as bad as it's going to get for this fic. There is nothing explicit in an actual sexual way but the implications are not subtle. Please be warned._

* * *

Sam had been hunting monsters since he was just a kid. He'd seen the darkest, evilest, most despicable creatures to ever walk the Earth, from the time he first picked up his dad's journal. He'd killed things that gave him nightmares, and he'd been haunted by evil. To be honest, he was used to the blood. He was used to the carnage, the corpses, the stench, the death.

He was used to seeing people and monsters alike ripped to pieces, and he was used to the life or death struggle that invariably ended with someone or something bloody on the floor, or ashes on the ground.

But that was nothing in comparison to the evil he was watching now.

"Stay away from him!" he shouted desperately, uselessly. They weren't going to listen to him. He could see it in their eyes… the hunger. Hunger for power, for control, for the evil of terrorizing someone who couldn't fight back. Their gazes were predatory, expressions cruel and malicious.

Domiel was still holding Castiel's wings, still pinning him flat on his stomach on the floor. The others were in a ring around the angel, slowly stalking around him, surrounding him,  _swarming_ him. Castiel was trembling, his wings shuddering in Domiel's grasp. He stared at the floor, breathing hard and fast in panicked bursts. All Sam could think of was his own plea from over a month ago coming back to haunt him: "You wouldn't let demons do this to him."

Except, clearly, Zachariah  _would_. He was off the deep end, he and Domiel both. Angels were dicks, but  _these_ tw _o_  were insane. No other angel would have allowed this, no matter what kind of traitor they believed Cas to be.

Torture was one thing, but this was evil.

"Pretty, pretty wings," one of the demons hissed, and Sam saw Castiel's fists clench tightly. He was white knuckled in fear, but there would be no escaping the chains encircling his wrists, or the angel holding him down.

"Well, have a go, then," Zachariah offered, forcing a terrified exhale from Castiel. "But I'm warning you… kill him, and you'll be dead before you know what hit you. I want him powerless, not dead." Zach looked down at Cas, whose head was still bowed, before finishing softly, "Because that's  _true_ victory. Your submission, to  _me._ "

"You bastard!" Sam shouted from his cage, shaking the bars of the wall desperately. "He's your  _brother_!"

With a laugh, cold and dark and clearly insane, Zachariah spared the hunter a single look, smirking. "No. He's my bitch."

And without another word, they attacked.

This was not a brutality that Sam could have evergotten used to. Blood, death, yes, but not brutality like this. The demons were laughing,  _laughing_ , as they pounced on Cas, who immediately cried out in the pure horror of their foul, corrupt touch to his soul. He was held bodily down, Domiel holding one wing and a demon holding the other, all four burrowing through the feathers.

Sam screamed, shouted, threatened, pleaded, but nothing made them stop, or even slow down, as they covered Castiel in a mass of violating hands. Finally, Sam could only fall to his knees, tears sliding down his own cheeks as he watched his friend be attacked, over and over. Cas never said a word. The last time, he'd pleaded for them to stop, so many times... this time, he was eerily quiet. No words, just cries of pain and revulsion and terror.

"Nice set o' wings on this birdie," cackled a demon, slashing through the feathers with razor sharp claws, so that Cas screamed in pain, only barely keeping back his true voice so that Sam wouldn't be hurt. The angel writhed on the floor, squirming and fighting as hard as he possibly could, but it was no use.

"Yeah… so nice we were invited to play with 'im," the other demon agreed in rabid delight as he pulled one wing back, clenched both hands around the main limb, and then snapped.

This time, Cas's true voice ripped through his scream, but Sam could barely feel the pain, as he desperately yelled to his friend again. "Cas, LOOK AT ME!  _Please_ , look at me, I'm right here! Cas! Don't look at them, look at  _me_!"

The angel slowly looked up, cheeks wet and dirty from the grungy floor. He looked entirely lost, broken, blank. Sam could see it, he could see that Cas had given up. He couldn't fight, he couldn't make it stop… he could only hope for it to end soon, that he would be put out of his misery, but Sam stared at him hard.

"You look at  _me_ , Cas," he growled through gritted teeth, not sure if the angel could even hear him over the triumphant, rowdy band that was brutalizing his soul with their terrible hands. "You  _hold on_ , don't you dare give up. Keep watching  _me_."

It was a nightmare that didn't end. Domiel and Zachariah were laughing, Domiel all but mountedon him now, resting his weight on Cas's back and keeping both wings spread out at their joints. The demons were scratching and tearing at the wings, their voices lewd and raucous the entire time. It made Sam's blood boil as the angel's cheeks burned in shame. Zachariah was pushing Cas's head down to stare at the ground, breaking his eye contact with Sam.

"Have we learned yet?" the angel softly asked Castiel, hand gripping the dark hair to keep him bowed down. " _I_ make the rules… you obey them."

"Gonna make you squeal so good," a demon giggled, having the audacity to grab those magnificent feathers and run them over his face. "Pretty, pretty wings…"

" _Stop_ it!" Sam bellowed as rage spilled from every corner of his being. "Just STOP!"

Only Domiel looked up at him, smiling as he jerked Castiel up from the floor into a kneeling position, one hand reaching around to clench Cas's jaw while the other rubbed up and down the ridge of one feathered wing. "Sam Winchester," he taunted. "If we let you go, you could come play with him, too, want to?"

Sam's voice was shaking with the force of his wrath, as he replied simply, "I'm going to kill you."

Domiel only laughed, but Sam had found Cas's gaze again. They locked eyes, both terrified, desperate, helpless. The abuse just kept going, and going, and Sam prayed again.  _"Terriel, WHERE ARE YOU?!"_

* * *

"Damn it,  _tell me what's happening_!" Dean's furious voice filled the Impala, still driving along at breakneck speed. Terriel's eyes were closed, and he was breathing heavily in clear agony, but he wasn't  _talking,_  which only terrified Dean all the more!

"Zachariah…" Terriel whispered, gripping the handle over the door so tightly that it was starting to creak. "He's insane… he's gone insane. And Domiel… he must be just as crazy, or he would never allow it. Never. This..."

Whatever "this" was, it was clearly overwhelming him, and he had already seen what Zachariah had done, so what the HELL was happening now that was even worse!?

"Damn it, Terriel, tell me what's going on, or I swear to God I'm gonna-"

"It's demons," Terriel replied shakily, filled with horror and revulsion so complete that he could barely breathe. For Zachariah to violate Castiel, that was evil in itself, but this was unimaginable. Unforgivable. Impossible. Terriel would have believed that Sam Winchester was lying, even now, but he could feel the depth of Sam's agony and desperation in the prayer. This was truly happening. "This time, there's demons."

"SON OF A BITCH!"

Terriel had not believed this tiny, confining human contraption could go much faster, but Dean had the pedal fully on the floor now. Whatever speed he was going – 120? 150? – it wasn't fast enough. Terriel was stunned into silence, frozen in the seat. This was not possible. Demons were the essence of impurity. The thought of  _those_ filthy hands on the pure wings of his brother… such a thing had neverbeen heard of, ever.

What Castiel must be going through was unimaginable. For a moment, it was too much for the angel, and he dove inward to carefully touch the sleeping soul of Jason O'Dell. Jason was warm, a burning ball of light with the energy to power a thousand suns. He was a good man, and his soul was strong. He, and others like him and the Winchesters, were a reason to keep fighting for humanity -  _Castiel's_ fight. Terriel hadto remain strong so he could help Castiel.

There wasn't much comfort to be had, but Terriel could take at least a small bit, wrapping his own soul around Jason's in a protective gesture. He felt the heat of that soul; it strengthened him enough to return his focus to the world around him. Dean Winchester was swearing up a storm, and basically going, in the human vernacular, "bat-shit crazy".

"Can you fly yet?!" the hunter bellowed, not taking his eyes from the road that was streaking by under the wheels. Terriel grimaced, shaking his head.

"I'm still healing-"

"HEAL FASTER!" Dean's jaw clenched, hands on the wheel in a death grip. He was only barely holding himself together, Terriel realized, as the angel looked down at his legs. The broken one was nearly completely healed. Jason's soul was giving him power now, offering him strength even in his dormant sleep.

Terriel offered his vessel a silent whisper of gratitude, concentrating his energy on healing just enough to be able to walk; the rest of his grace had to go towards flight. They couldn't leave Castiel in this terrible position for a single second longer.

"This is my damn fault," Dean whispered suddenly, voice almost but not quite breaking. This was all his fault, Cas ought to be furious with him. It was Dean's fault that Cas hadn't escaped the first time, and it was Dean's fault for not banishing Zachariah this time, for not moving faster so they could  _all_ escape.

It was his damn fault, and now Cas was paying the price. Dean didn't think his conscience could survive the weight of this guilt, even if Cas ever forgave him... which he  _shouldn't_.

The car was silent, tense, nearly humming with the edge of raw nerves. Dean could barely breathe or see straight, as he prayed and pleaded and begged Cas to hold on, that he was coming. He knew that Cas couldn't hear him, with grace bound, but he still prayed… just in case. Just on the off-chance. Just because.

"Dean, we still need a plan," Terriel pointed out softly from beside him, so Dean exploded,

"We go in there and I tear Zachariah's HEAD OFF, that's the PLAN!"

"You will get yourself and Castiel into greater danger," the angel retorted, more firmly this time. "Dean. I do not have my angel blade, and Castiel's will have been taken from him. We have no weapons-"

"Then I'll use my BARE HANDS!"

"Dean,  _listen_." This time, there was a rumble of authority in the angel's voice, a presence of command that made Dean at least shoot him an angry look of acknowledgement before returning to his break-neck driving.

Waiting until Dean had fallen silent, Terriel went on, "Just listen to me, because I have an idea. Something you mentioned earlier…"

Quickly, he filled Dean in on what he was thinking, feeling himself getting stronger with every passing moment. His grace was starting to recover much faster now, picking up speed and strength. By the time he had finished explaining his plan, Terriel felt like he was strong enough to fly, but first he wanted to make sure Dean was clear on everything.

The hunter didn't say anything for a moment, glaring at the open road ahead of them. Finally, he growled, "You're  _sure_ you can do that?!"

"I am. And what you said… you're confident?"

"Yes!"

"Even now?" Terriel pressed urgently. "You must be honest with me. What Castiel is going through is beyond traumatic-"

"I said yes! You just make sure you get it right!"

Calmly, Terriel nodded, pulling himself up, as he finished, "Then stop your car, Dean Winchester. Now I can take you the rest of the way."

* * *

Sam didn't know how much longer this could possibly go on. He'd lost eye contact with Cas again; one of the demons was holding the angel's face turned to the side, towards the other demon.

"Eyes open, sweetheart," the demon laughed, while his counterpart stroked upwards through the feathers of Cas's wing so that they stuck out at wrong angles. Castiel moaned in revulsion, shuddering and trying to turn his head, but Zachariah and Domiel were on the other wing with their own groping hands. Cas closed his eyes, as the demon shook him and yelled, "Watch him. I said, eyes  _open_!"

"GET OFF MY FRIEND!"

Sam shot up with a gasp, eyes wide as he saw Dean and Terriel appear in their midst. His heart pounded with mixed feelings of deeper terror and trembling relief. Dean was here… the cavalry had arrived! But Dean was exactly what Zachariah wanted…

The demons never even had a chance to fully register what was going on, before the demon killing knife was hilt deep in their hearts. Dean ruthlessly plunged the arcane dagger into first one and then the other, face a stony expression of wrath and hatred.

They were dead before they could react.

Terriel, meanwhile, had flown straight for the sigils on the wall. His brow furrowed in concentration as he grimly slammed a powerful hand into the necessary sigils. The force of his blow, powered by gathering grace, was strong enough to crack the wall and break through the sigils.

Immediately, the chains around Cas's wrists fell to the floor, while the door to Sam's cage creaked open. Terriel didn't even stop to make sure it had worked, instead beginning to trace a new set of complex sigils onto the wall with chalk from Dean's car.

Everyone moved at once. Sam burst out of the cell, the face of death itself. Cas's angel blade had been tossed casually into a corner, and that was what the hunter dove for first.

Zachariah had grabbed for Cas, and Dean jumped onto him in the exact same way that Sam had before. They were grappling now, fierce and furious.

Domiel still had Cas by the base of his wings, dragging the angel up to his feet. Castiel was trying to fight, but he was still too shaken to do much. His wings fluttered, both looking like they'd been mauled from the demons' abuse, while the broken one jutted off painfully. He cried out once again as Domiel hauled him over to the wall and shoved him hard against it, stomach to the wall and Domiel holding him there with his own body weight pressing against him.

"Stop," Castiel managed to gasp out, finding his voice. Domiel shook his head, sneering, shoving Cas's wings outwards and then pinning them to the wall as well, as his fingers clenched in and out of the feathers.

"Don't be stupid," he growled into Cas's ear, leaning in close to the other angel and giving him a shake. "They won't be enough to save you… they're only humans."

With his back to the rest of the room, Domiel never even saw Sam pick up Cas's blade. He never saw Sam turn towards them, where Domiel was still pinning Cas to the wall, and he never saw Sam's arm rear back and then throw the blade like a tomahawk. He never saw, only felt, as the blade pierced through his heart from behind, fulfilling Sam's cold, calculating promise to kill him.

The last thing the dying angel heard as his grace sparked and flared and then exploded, was Sam's deadly, seething voice:

"Oh, we're not just humans. We're  _Winchesters_ , you son of a bitch."

Domiel was dead. Castiel turned slowly, sliding shakily to the floor as his wings evaporated from view, pulled into the ethereal plane. Terriel was still working almost feverishly on his chalk sigils, which left only Dean and Zachariah fighting.

The angel, though, was far too powerful for even Dean to fight off, and Zachariah finally threw Dean down to the floor, hard. The wind was knocked out of him, and Dean gasped for breath as Zachariah stood over him.

"You  _infernal_ Winchester," Zachariah grumbled, crackling with wrath. "I can still smite you and put you back together again later."

His hand stretched out, reached down for Dean to obliterate him. Sam shouted from across the room, but he had thrown his weapon and now had none. There was another flurry of movement, and Cas was diving, literally throwing himself in front of Dean, as Zachariah moved in for the kill.


	13. Chapter 13

"STOP!"

Everything in the prison came to a sudden halt at Castiel's shout; even Terriel turned around to watch, eyes wide. Sam was across the room, frozen and unsure what to do, while Dean was on the floor with his hands up as though that would give him the slightest ability to ward Zachariah off. Zachariah himself was still standing hand outstretched, but he'd paused… Cas was kneeling in front of Dean, one hand behind him to rest protectively on the hunter, the other held up towards Zachariah.

"Castiel, really," Zachariah said in amusement, raising an eyebrow. "I'll get back to  _you_ in a second, don't you worry."

"Then take me," Castiel murmured, shaky and frightened, but frowning in determination as Sam yelled,

"Cas,  _no_!"

"Let them go," the angel went on, ignoring Sam. "Don't give Sam to Lucifer. Don't hurt Dean. Just let them go."

Zachariah straightened up, rolling his eyes heavenward, as he countered, "Or… I kill Dean and send him to Heaven for Michael to deal with, drop Sam off with Lucifer, get this Apocalypse started, collect my promotion, and spend the next century or so teaching you your place."

"Cas," Dean suddenly said, his voice strangely calm. His own hand had come up, grabbing Cas's arm as the angel watched Zachariah. The hunter's eyes were intense with focus, and Sam realized that he was praying. Dean was talking to Cas, but silently, and Cas's eyes suddenly widened.

The angel glanced back over his shoulder, a questioning look in his eyes, and Dean nodded once. The glare on the hunter's face was dark and terrible, and that should have been Zachariah's first clue… but angels never learned.

Castiel nodded back, then straightened up, climbing to his feet. Zachariah watched him, still amused, as Cas met his eyes squarely without looking down. "No," he growled, voice strengthening. Even Sam was taken aback, quickly looking to his brother for an explanation.

Dean only gave his brother a wink, starting to smirk. Castiel was agreeing to the plan Dean had just shared with him.  _Go, Cas…_  he thought silently.  _You got this._

"No?" Zachariah repeated in disbelief, shaking his head mournfully. "Ah, Castiel." Then, his voice shifted into one of fury, as he hissed, "I'm going to teach you your lesson if it's the last thing I do. You think this was bad? Try living like this, permanently. I'll keep you in chains for the rest of your existence until your wings fall offyour backlike the shameful fallen angel you are!"

"No!" snarled Castiel louder, drawing himself up. His eyes flashed, and spirit rose in him once again. He was un-cowed, unbroken, and very much  _not_ submissive. He was an angel of the Lord. "No, you won't ever touch me again. It's time we settlethis, Zachariah. One fight. One final fight, once and for all. You and I."

"Fine," Zachariah agreed eagerly, triumph flashing in his eyes. "But when I win, your precious Winchesters go to Michael and Lucifer, Terriel over there goes to heaven for re-education, and  _you_ … you come with me, and you're mybitch for the rest of eternity, you pathetic excuse for an angel."

"But if  _I_ win," Castiel returned roughly, accepting his angel blade that Dean held out for him, "I'm going to kill you."

"Oh, listen to you," chuckled Zachariah, though his dark expression belied his fury rather than his amusement. "You can't possibly win, Castiel. But this will make things much easier, so… deal." His own angel blade flashed up into his hand, and he crouched with an eager smile. He was just waiting to begin, to bring Cas down with his far, far stronger grace, delighted at the ease with which the angel was just going to hand himself back over like this.

Castiel nodded, while Dean and Sam scurried back and pressed themselves against the farthest wall, out of the way of those lethal blades. Sam ignored his own dislocated arm, grabbed Dean's instead and hissing, "What are you  _doing_? Zach's ten times stronger than he is!"

Dean's smile showed no mercy and no pity as he hissed back, "Only as an angel."

"…What?"

"One last thing," Cas spat out at Zachariah, as Terriel pressed a hand into the center of the final sigil he'd been drawing on the wall. There was another blinding flash, burning the humans' eyes painfully, but it was gone quickly. Castiel smiled for the first time, dark and dangerous, as he finished, "We'll be fighting as humans."

Mystified, furious, Zachariah spun towards Terriel, who slumped weakly against the wall but smiled. "The room is... sealed," the angel guard explained, clearly exhausted. "It binds the grace... of  _any_ angel inside of it. That means me, Castiel… and you. No healing. No smiting. No flying. No praying for help. You're as human as the Winchesters."

"You can't do that!" bellowed Zachariah, lividwith rage. "There's no sigil that does that!" Terriel only chuckled, then sighed.

"Of course I can do that, I just... created them. It's what... I do. Who did you think had created... the rest of these sigils... for you?"

With a shout of fury, Zachariah spun around, hand outstretched already to rest of Castiel's head… nothing happened. His grace was truly bound like the others', unable to smite his enemy, unable to use his "angel mojo" at all. He had only the strength of his vessel now, and his vessel wasn't exactly a young, muscular and fit body. For the first time, the angel seemed unsure of himself, and now Sam was laughing darkly against the wall.

He understood now. Dean had been teaching Castiel for weeks how to fight like a human, but Zach had never had the disadvantage of fighting without his grace. Cas could  _win_  this.

"You deceived me!" Zachariah shouted at Castiel in fury, angel blade clenched tightly in his shaking fist. "This isn't what we agreed on!"

"Of course I deceived you, and betrayed you, and unfairly used your disadvantage," Castiel growled, walking forward with confidence growing in every step. Dean had been preparing him for exactly this moment. "Because that is how  _you_ work, Zachariah."

There was a flash of malevolence in Castiel's eyes, as he finished with a snarl, " _Yo_ _u_ made the rules, Zachariah… I'm following them."

Zachariah  _was_ at a disadvantage now, but the angel had guts, whatever else he might be. He gave Castiel one withering look, then he darted in, angel blade held high. With a vicious yell, he slashed down towards Cas, but it was evident from the look on his face that he was thrown off by the weakness of the blow. Zachariah had never had to fight without the power of his grace to give him super human strength, he couldn't adjust.

Castiel, however, had been practicing with Sam and Dean, consciously holding back his grace, and he knew what he was doing. With every strike he dodged, the onlookers could see Cas's confidence growing. Dean nodded with pride and satisfaction, watching his friend attack. He could do this. He could win this fight!

"Get him!" Sam murmured, satisfaction splashed across his face. For the first time since Zachariah had shown up, he truly felt like this was going to go their way. He  _knew_ Cas was strong enough to win. This was his to win, on his own, with his own strength.

Zachariah had been the one who wanted Castiel to have an audience, after all. They were just there to watch.

Terriel had limped over to join them, watching with a calm that was belied by the spark in his eye. His own healing was on hold until he could lift the warding in the room, but watching this was worth it. After everything Castiel had gone through, fighting - and defeating - Zachariah was his right. Not just for himself, but for all angels who may have been terrorized by Zachariah, with no one ever knowing it... and for humanity, for whom Castiel had defied Zachariah in order to protect.

The two graceless angels were fighting in earnest now. Zachariah was trying to adapt to his lesser strength, attempting to make up for the loss with increased speed. He was all over the place, slashing up and down like lightning. He was fast, certainly… but Castiel had always been the fastest.

The angel blades clashed against each other, Zachariah's downward blow blocked by Cas's blade. Castiel's arm was extended up, holding both blades out of the way, as he suddenly smirked and punched Zachariah hard in the solar plexus, where Dean had taught him to. It wouldn't have worked on an angel, and so it wasn't a known trick to them, but on Zachariah it now worked like an absolute charm.

"Yeah!" Dean couldn't help but yell, letting out a short laugh. "That's the way!"

Zachariah had been thrust backwards by the hit, doubling over and trying to recover the breath that he'd never needed before. His blade was still held out threateningly, and Castiel couldn't help the old habit of letting his brother recover for a moment. It was a gesture that the other angel would have never afforded him, an honorable move against a dishonorable enemy.

Taking advantage of the momentary pause, Zachariah straightened and glared at Castiel. "You think you're proving something?" he snarled. "You're nothing, Castiel! Don't forget, you've already submitted to me! This will get you nowhere! And even if you somehow pull out a miracle and win today, don't think your precious pets over there are safe. The Apocalypse  _will_ happen, and they will fight in it, no matter what you do here today! You can't stop it. You're  _nothing_. A fallen, useless, pathetic angel who threw everything away for a couple of mud monkeys who found you  _mildly_ amusing. You think you can trust  _them_? They've seen how useless you are, and they'll drop you the  _second_  there's nothing more they can get out of you. You're-"

Zachariah broke off with a pained gasp, reeling backwards once again as his hand went to cover his broken nose. Castiel lowered his fist, knuckles now covered with blood, from where he had punched the other angel right in the face.

"Never let them start monologuing," he quoted Dean, watching Zachariah with wrathful eyes that were anything but broken. Cas was coming free with a vengeance, every shot to Zachariah bringing him more and more back to life… and Castiel was very, very angry.

He'd been ridiculed, beaten, violated, humiliated, shamed, and tortured in the evilest of all possible ways, sullied by the hands of both angels and demons, and now he was filled with the wrath of heaven, humanity, and himself.

Sam and Dean  _knew_ Cas, and even they were a little frightened in that moment, as their friend's full rage was unleashed.

Cas moved ten times faster than Zachariah had, angel blade weaving skillful, dexterous webs of steel in the air. Zachariah held him off for a time, striking back with the skill of millennia, if not with the power of grace. It was almost hard to follow all the strikes, their limbs just a blur of movement in the dark prison.

But every strike, faster than sight, brought Castiel inches closer to vengeance. He wasn't holding back, and now there was a sense of urgency on Zachariah's face. With no one to hold Castiel down for him, without three other angels to gang up on Cas, without his prided angel mojo, Zachariah was for the first time  _not_ in a position of complete control. Perhaps the angel had finally realized that this wasn't a fight he was certain to win.

Perhaps he even realized that he was  _losing_  this fight.

Metal on metal clashed and clanged throughout the room, the onlookers staying well to the side and out of the way. Zachariah couldn't land a solid hit with his fist, though he tried; Castiel blocked every one of them, following up immediately with a punch of his own. Zachariah was being driven slowly backwards, and Cas was gaining ground.

Something in Castiel's face shifted as he saw that he had Zachariah on the run. What had been a dark intensity shifted to the face of a nightmare, so shadowed and cold that he didn't even look like Castiel. The hand holding his blade curled and twisted, then slammed into Zachariah's cheekbone. Zachariah grunted, stumbling backwards, but Cas grabbed him by the collar of his white dress shirt to hold him up, and punched him again.

Cas's lips parted in a growling sneer as his eyes burned into those of his abuser, and his blade flashed one more time… plunging into Zachariah's gut.

Zachariah froze, gasped, stared at Castiel in disbelief while the motionless Winchesters watched silently. It didn't kill him, not like a shot to the heart would, but they all knew it was over. The blade Zachariah carried slid from his nerveless grip, and Cas caught it in mid air before it hit the ground. The blades twirled around, and Castiel stabbed him again with both. "That's for Dean and Sam," he whispered, voice gravelly and harsh.

This time, Zachariah stumbled back, grabbed the wall for support, then slid to the floor with the same expression of shock and disbelief. Cas knelt down, masked with terrifying fury, and thrust down with all his strength. There was a scream of pain, as the blades pierced through the meat of Zachariah's thighs, shattering both femurs as they did.

"That's for Terriel," Cas hissed, jerking the blades back out. One knee crushed into Zachariah's chest, and he leaned over, slamming one of Zachariah's hands down to the floor and driving one blade all the way through to pin him there. Zachariah screamed again, but Castiel ignored him and stepped on the angel's other wrist so that his arms were spread, trapped on the floor.

"That's for holding me down," he snarled, before slashing his free blade across Zachariah's face, four times. His angel blade dripped blood, while Zachariah howled through his disfigured face. "And for everything you took from me!"

Zachariah was panting, twisting around in agony, but he couldn't move. He had only the strength of his vessel, and Castiel had the upper hand. He was trapped as helplessly as he had trapped Cas, and there was no escaping him now.

Castiel raised his blade, poised over Zachariah as he growled, "This is for betraying Heaven… God… and me."

The pinned angel didn't beg, didn't plead. His pride wouldn't allow that, but hatred filled his eyes as Zachariah spat out, "Go ahead. It won't make you any less pathetic,  _brother_."

For a moment, Cas's lips curled up in a furious, cold smirk. "You're not my brother," he hissed, reminding Zachariah of the words he'd said to Sam. There was a flash, a clang of metal crashing through flesh and muscle and bone, and a quiet gurgle as air and blood escaped past the blade in Zachariah's throat. Castiel whispered his final words to the angel who had tortured him:

"And I'm not your bitch."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> o.O BAMF Cas... don't mess with him.


	14. Chapter 14

There was silence for a long moment in the prison as everyone stared at the outline of wings burned into the floor. It was over… Zachariah was dead. This was all over, at last. Castiel had won!

"Cas!" Dean shouted, the first to break the silence as he ran over to his friend. He took the angel's arm, helping him to his feet, before pulling him into a hard hug. "Cas, you son of a bitch," he added, quieter, voice breaking. "Don't you  _ever_ … you just… I thought I wouldn't…  _damn_ it, Cas!"

Articulate as ever.

Sam was right behind him, anxiety and victory both warring for dominance in his expression. Yes, Castiel had won, but that didn't mean everything was ok… Dean had only come in at the tail end of that last session, but Sam had seen the whole thing. There was no way Cas was going to be alright just like that, not even after killing Zachariah.

Castiel didn't say anything, though. He was breathing heavily, the rage slowly disappearing from his face, bringing back the Cas they knew. As it drained away, though, it seemed to take all his energy with him. Cas sagged, forcing Sam and Dean to quickly grab him and help him sit down on the floor. He'd done it. With no grace at all, he'd defeated his enemy. Moreover, Sam and Dean - who he was humiliated to know had seen him at his worst disgrace - had been there to witness this as well. They might not have needed him to prove himself, but Castiel still had, and that was something.

There was a quick flash of light as Terriel broke the sigils and restored their grace. He was at Castiel's side in an instant, a hand on his arm as the two angels locked eyes. No words were passed between them, but there must have been a silent conversation going on because Terriel finally shook his head and murmured,

"Don't thank me, brother. I wish I had done the right thing far sooner."

"No. You saved me, and you saved my friends," Cas gruffly replied. "You've earned my gratitude."

Terriel nodded his acceptance, then asked in concern, "Your vessel, Jimmy Novak. Did he…?"

"No. I've let Jimmy sleep ever since reclaiming his body," Castiel assured him gratefully. "He never felt any of it."

"Good. Now we should really get out of here," Terriel pointed out. The Winchesters were in complete agreement. Together, Sam and Dean helped Cas stand back up again. The sooner they got him away from this place, the better, away from all of this and the memories of what had happened here.

"Cas, I'm  _real_  proud of you, man," Sam quietly told him, giving his arm a squeeze. "You did it. You proved Zachariah wrong about you."

"And  _man_ , what a left hook!" Dean exclaimed, high on their victory - though inside, he was just afraid that if he didn't make a joke, he'd fall apart entirely. Everything Cas had gone through… how long would it take him to recover this time? Dean had wanted to kill Zachariah himself, but the hunter also knew it was probably better for Cas that the angel had taken care of it himself. Dean's heart broke, his emotions twisted into a mass of agony and anger, but he kept his game face on. "Dude, you  _nailed_ him!"

Cas nodded, but didn't reply, and already the two Winchesters could see they were starting to lose him. The angel was quiet – very quiet. He wasn't looking at the ground, but… well, he wasn't exactly looking at them, either. The brothers traded a quick, worried look, before Sam added,

"And, Cas… you know Zach was wrong, right? I mean, about us leaving you eventually? We won't. You're  _family_. You're like a brother to us."

"I know," Cas replied, but his voice was barely a whisper and he was looking straight ahead. He was starting to get tense, and Terriel quickly stepped up.

"Hold on," the angel warned as his arms encircled the group. There was a whoosh of displaced air, and when Sam and Dean opened their eyes, they were all standing in front of the Impala, still safe behind a clump of trees off the road. Castiel gave the other angel one last nod, then silently climbed into the back seat. Dean watched him worriedly, as Sam turned to Terriel for their own goodbyes. The angel was still trying to heal from his own ordeal, and he'd been using grace faster than he was regaining it; Terriel was looking a little weak, leaning against a nearby tree for support.

"Why don't you stay with us?" Sam suggested genuinely. "Give you time to heal. And besides... we could use some friends."

Terriel shook his head, though, looking troubled. "No, but thank you," he declined. "You must understand, Sam Winchester. Everything I've ever known has just been shaken. I… I need time to sort everything out. If you ever need anything, though, please… don't hesitate to pray. I'll be there."

"Well, now that you mention it..." Sam hesitantly gestured towards his dislocated arm, held close to his body. He knew from experience that angel healing hurt much less than Dean popping his limbs back into joint for him. It seemed rather trivial to the hunter, after everything else that had happened, but Terriel nodded willingly and reached out two fingertips to Sam's forehead. Instantly, the bones moved painlessly back into place. Sam smiled his gratitude.

"Thanks. You're  _sure_ you don't want to come with us? I know Bobby won't mind, after what you did for Cas."

"Thank you, Sam, but I really must say no. At least for now."

That was the best they were going to be able to do, they could tell. Regarding the angel, Dean asked, "What're you going to do now?"

Raising an eyebrow, Terriel turned to gaze down the road, distant but not unsure. "What I was made to do," he answered simply. "Guard humans."

"Good luck," Dean said, not grudgingly. They all owed the angel big-time, he knew that. The hunter's previous anger at Terriel had faded away. He'd earned forgiveness, for what he'd done for Cas, and Dean would welcome him gladly whenever and if ever the angel decided to join up with them again. Terriel nodded, looked towards the Impala one last time, and then was gone.

Now there was nothing to do but go home, and try to heal.

* * *

 

Predictably, nothing was quite the same. Or, perhaps, it was more accurate to say that everything was exactly the same. Dean was in a drunken stupor for most of the next day, and every night for the rest of the week. Sam dove headfirst into Bobby's books, reading non-stop with a slight frown of concentration in a way that suggested being healthy, but was really just a way to shut out the world. And Cas… he sat outside under the open sky, and brooded.

For a long while, a full two weeks, he wouldn't say a word to anyone, no matter how much they tried to talk to him. The angel never slept, which was at least a good sign that his grace was still surviving. As near as they could tell, he didn't move at  _all_ much. He just stared up at the sky, sometimes lying back in the bed of one of Bobby's trucks, and was silent. Perhaps he was reflecting, perhaps he was praying, perhaps he was just… watching the sky.

Once or twice, though, they heard a sharp cry from the angel, or caught sight of tears, and knew that he was remembering the degradation, the humiliation, the forced submission and the feel of cruel, invading hands.

But at least he was there, not in some remote cave on another continent, or God knows where. He was right there with them, even if he wasn't really  _there_. It was a start.

Eventually, he broke his silence and started coming indoors on occasion. Trying to talk to him was like poking a dragon, though. If he had been short with them before, this time he was a constant lighted fuse. Cas's temper frayed and snapped with no provocation at all, shouting at them to back off, to leave him alone, so what could they do?

Dean, fiery-tempered himself, wasn't quite as patient and sensitive as Sam, and had to struggle to remind himself not to yell back. He knew it wasn't fair of him, knew they'd all been expecting Cas to have some trouble. He couldn't yell at his friend; this wasn't Cas's fault.

It was his.

Every time Cas snapped at him to go away and leave him alone, that guilt only multiplied. Dean had figured it would come to this eventually, that Cas wouldn't want to see him anymore. After everything he'd done to get Cas in that terrible position? Who could blame him?

The guilt was eating away at him, though, gnawing at his heart until Dean could barely take it. Eventually, it was just too much.

"Hey… Cas. I need to say something." Dean stood by the bed of the truck, where Castiel was sitting and watching the stars come out. The hunter's hands were shoved in his pockets, and he looked away. Cas wouldn't look at him… he couldn't even  _look_ at him. Dean swallowed hard, taking a breath. He hated these heart-to-hearts, he always had.

But this was something he  _had_ to say. "I'm… I'm sorry. You know, I'm not so great at apologies, but… uh... I know what you must think of me, and I just… I just wanted to say... I..."

"Dean. What are you talking about?" Castiel eyed the hunter, his gaze drawn away from the sky at Dean's words. Why was he apologizing? What had he done? But the hunter wouldn't look up at him, and Cas realized with surprise that Dean's eyes were moist, as they always were when he was fighting back tears. Seeing this, the angel wrestled back the temper that threatened to wash over him, worried that something was truly hurting Dean.

"I know it's my fault," Dean quietly answered, the familiar not-quite-break back in his voice that told Cas something was really wrong.

"What's your fault?"

Dean closed his eyes, and one tear escaped, trickling down his cheek as he swore. "Damn it. You know. Everything that happened. It was my fault. If I hadn't been there, if that bastard hadn't had me and Sam to use against you, you would've at least had a chance to escape. And I didn't… I didn't even  _check_ to make sure he was really gone, and, I just… I know it's my fault. And it makes me sick. I…"

He had to pause to take another breath, gather himself together enough to get this out. Dean swallowed again, and finished, "I will never…  _ever_ … forgive myself for what happened to you. So, I guess I just… I wanted to say… I don't blame you for being so angry at me. You  _should_ be."

Castiel was staring at him when Dean looked up, but instead of looking angry, he was simply puzzled. It was that damn baffled look he'd always gotten before, when Dean said something he didn't understand, and it was just so… so  _Cas_ , that it almost hurt to see. If only he could have his friend back… Damn it, this was seriously crushing him, a massive hole in his chest that made breathing so much more difficult.

"Dean, what are you talking about?" Cas's voice was low, but softer now than it had been before. He wasn't yelling, and that was somehow worse. Dean wished he  _would_  yell. "I'm not angry with you. I don't understand. Nothing that happened was your fault."

But even as Castiel said the words, the angel saw another tear slide down Dean's face. It took a lot for Dean to get so emotional as to shed tears, and it hit Cas so suddenly that he gasped. Dean was blaming himself for everything? He thought it was  _his_ fault? And… he thought Caswas blaming him, too?

"Oh, Dean…" Castiel sighed, closing his eyes and shaking his head. "Dean, I know I've been… short-tempered. I'm sorry. I never imagined you would think I blamed you. It's just… it's hard for me. You wouldn't understand, and I pray to God you never do. I don't wantyou to know what it's like, what I went through. I never want you to know. Dean, I can still feelthem on me-"

His voice faltered here, a pained, horrified look in his eyes, but it passed after a second. Dean risked a look up at him, seeing only honesty in the angel's face.

"Dean," Cas started again, voice firm. "I never blamed you. Or Sam."

"He used us to make you cooperate-"

"Once. But the first time…" Cas had to take a breath to steady himself. He looked away for a moment, then said in a shakier voice, "The first time that he… Zachariah… the first time he… trapped me… there was nothing to use against me. There was nothing to force me to cooperate. He didn't have you that time, and he still… succeeded."

But that was still his fault, wasn't it? Dean closed his eyes and pointed out through gritted teeth, "But the only reason you disobeyed at all was because you were helping us, cause I convinced you to."

"Dean!" Now the angel's voice was colored with shock. How little could the hunter think of himself, Castiel wondered, to be this desperate to blame himself? Why must Dean always shoulder the guilt, when it wasn't his to carry?

Turning to face him fully, Cas firmly protested, "Don't diminish my choices by making them yours. Choosing humanity was  _my_ decision, and I made it because it felt right. Not because you made it sound good. Dean, noneof this was your fault, you understand me? I'm  _not_ angry with you. I'm just… angry."

Dean didn't know how much he really believed that it wasn't his fault. He would always blame himself, at least a little. But Cas wasn't a very good liar; Dean would have been able to tell easily if the angel was lying. He was telling the truth, or what he believed the truth to be. Then Dean just felt like crap - Cas was the one comforting  _him_ , when it ought to have been the other way around. So when Cas started to apologize, Dean quickly cut him off.

"Dude, you've got nothing to be sorry for. You're right, me and Sam, we don't know what you're going through, at all. You deal with it however you gotta. Just... don't forget, you're our brother, or as good as. And I can speak for Sammy when I say, we're proud of you."

Cas nodded, half-smiled with obvious pleasure, but didn't say anything else.

After that, though, he started coming in more often, holding his temper more, gradually returning to the Castiel they knew. After a while, he finally started going out on hunts with them - and woe to the demon that got in his path, because Castiel wasn't just smiting them, he was  _obliterating_  them.

This was nearly two months after everything had happened. That was when they noticed that he wasn't flying... and that was when it occurred to them at last that he hadn'tflown, not since the prison.

Not once. Not at all.


	15. Chapter 15

"Dean, we gotta face it. Something's wrong with Cas's wings." Sam knew Dean didn't want to hear that, but there was no avoiding it now. That last hunt had nearly ended with the Winchesters being  _eaten_ , and still Cas hadn't flown them out. Sure, he'd managed to smite pretty much the entire room of ghouls with one enormous blast – a move that had left him too drained to even walk straight on their way back to the car – but that was what had convinced Sam that Cas wasn't just being sensitive about his wings.

He  _couldn't_  fly.

"But it's been… what, over two months now?" Dean pointed out, wishing he'd made the demons' deaths a little slower and more painful. "I thought he was fully healed! Well… you know, physically."

"I thought so, too," Sam replied with a frown. "But something'swrong. It can't be his grace, can it? He's still smiting the hell outta everything, and he healed from that cut just last Tuesday like it was nothing."

"Well, then  _what_ , Sammy?!"

"I don't know. But this explains why he even stayed, you know? I was so glad he didn't go off on his own again, but… maybe it was just because he  _couldn't_." And maybe that was why he'd been so short-tempered. He hadn't just been staying for them, he'd at least partially been staying because he was stuck.

But why? There were no answers, and when they mentioned it to Castiel himself, the angel nearly bit their heads off.

"My wings are  _fine_!" he snapped tensely, glaring so hard at Sam and Dean that the two almost expected to burst into flames right there on the spot.

"Then I'm sure you wouldn't mind flying over to the yard and back, just so we can be sure?" Dean challenged him. It didn't go over well… to say the least.

"What the hell was that all about?" Bobby asked, coming to investigate the explosion of shouting this caused, just in time to see a still raging Castiel storm off in the other direction, and a frustrated, muttering Dean push his way past towards the house for a beer.

Sam just sighed, looking back and forth between the two. He filled Bobby in on everything, to the best of his knowledge – which wasn't exactly extensive. Bobby was frowning, rubbing his jaw thoughtfully. Sam didn't push him, waiting with as much patience as possible until Bobby looked up at him.

"You know, seems I was reading something a while back about angel wings. I didn't even think about it til now, but… if something happened to Cas's, I'm not so sure he could heal them."

"They don't  _heal_?!" Sam gasped out loud, eyes widening in horror as he frantically turned in the direction Cas had went, as though considering chasing him down. For what purpose, even he didn't know, but Bobby quickly calmed him down.

"No, you idjit, I mean I don't think he can heal them himself."

That didn't make sense to Sam either. He frowned. "What're you talking about? Cas heals himself all the time."

Bobby shrugged. "I don't know. Wish I did. It just wasn't very clear, but from what I read, wings are just… trickier. Maybe he just  _can't_ heal them. But… I can think of someone who might be able to tell you for sure."

* * *

 

"What do you mean,  _can't_ heal?" Dean demanded later that night when he'd calmed down enough for Sam and Bobby to fill him in. "Like, ever?"

The younger hunter shrugged, looking worried. "Not sure," he admitted. "There's not a lot in the lore. But I was just thinking… remember what Terriel said? They'll only touch another angel's wings if there was a strong bond between them… or, if they required healing."

"So they  _can_ heal," Dean clarified with obvious relief. "So why aren't Cas's?"

"Don't know. But we're about to find out." Closing his eyes, Sam called, "Terriel. Wherever you are, if you can hear me. Hey, um… we think something might be wrong with Cas's wings. So… we're at Bobby's house, if you-"

"Something's wrong with his wings?" The hunters spun around to see Terriel there, a concerned look on his face as he skipped the hellos. "What? What's wrong with them?"

"Well… we don't know," Sam admitted, trading a look with Dean and Bobby. "I don't think he can fly. I mean, he hasn't, not once. Granted, the demons did break one of them, but-"

"They BROKE it?!" Terriel looked horrified, and slightly nauseas. He closed his eyes, muttering a curse under his breath. "Damn it… I didn't know that."

"Wait, how did you  _not_ know?" Dean demanded. "I mean, just by looking-"

"I  _wasn't_  looking," the angel interrupted with a small glare. "I was putting up the sigils, and trying to let Castiel keep a bit of dignity."

Oh. Sam and Dean shifted, a little uncomfortably. They themselves had been unable to _stop_ staring at the truly glorious wings, broken or not. Sam was feeling horribly guilty though; he was the only one who had seen it happen, he should have said something. He, along with Dean, had just assumed that Cas would heal himself, as he always did.

"But it's been two months _!"_  Dean argued. "Everything else is healed already."

"An angel can't heal their own wings," Terriel explained distractedly, confirming what Bobby had been afraid of. "I didn't even think- the angels never physicallyharmed them, but I should have known the demons would. I should have healed them right away… Why did no one tellme his wings needed to be healed?"

"So you  _can_ fix it?" Bobby clarified, the question on all of their minds.

To their relief, Terriel nodded. "Yes. I just wish I had known." He sighed, then added quieter, "I keep letting him down."

Looking more and more worried, Dean and Sam cleared their throats, as Dean grumbled, "Well, join the club. So, what, you can heal everything  _but_ your own wings? What the hell is that about?"

Terriel opened his eyes, shrugging. "Angels were not made to be solitary individuals," he reminded Dean simply. "We aren't usually in a situation where there is notanother angel near enough to help. Where is Castiel?"

"Right here," a voice said from behind them, and the group turned to see a surprised looking Cas. "Terriel… it's good to see you again. What's going on?"

"Castiel," Terriel instantly gasped, stepping towards his brother with an anguished expression. "I'm so sorry, I had no idea!"

"Of what?" Cas asked him in alarm, glancing around quickly as though expecting a horde of demons to appear at any moment.

No demons appeared, though, only Terriel as he took a step closer with the same expression of horrified regret. "They broke your wing?" he demanded, as Castiel instantly froze. "I should have healed them straight away. Brother, why didn't you tell me? I can heal them for you. Let me help."

"No." Castiel, warm and welcoming only a moment before, was suddenly transformed into the same terrifying warrior who had defeated Zachariah. There was panic in his eyes, though; to heal him, Terriel would have to actually touch him. "Stay away from me."

"Brother-"

"Don't… touch… me."

No wonder he hadn't said anything about it before, Dean realized with a wince. The angel looked like he was about to have a panic attack, and the thought occurred to Dean that if Castiel was thrown into a flashback, he might actually kill someone without meaning to. This could get verydangerous if they didn't calm him down, but Cas only panicked more when Terriel took a step towards him.

"I said, DON'T TOUCH ME!" An angel blade appeared in Cas's hand, as he backed away, looking terrified. "Just  _stay back_ , stay away from me!" Suddenly, he was right back there in the prison. It wasn't Terriel in front of him anymore, it was Zachariah, the demons, Domiel, Josiah. His wings were forcibly revealed, held apart, leaving him vulnerable...

He heard his name being called, but it was as though from far away. It sounded like Dean, and Castiel tried desperately to cling to that voice. His vision shifted, and he was momentarily back in reality, at Bobby's house.

"Cas, your wing is  _broken_ ," Dean was pointing out pleadingly. "Terriel can fix it!"

"They're trying to help you, son," Bobby tried, but Cas took another step back.

"NO!"

"Castiel." Terriel's tone was gentle, soft. His hands were held up and he didn't advance. "You can't fly with a broken wing."

Cas was trembling, eyes haunted, as he held up the angel blade stubbornly in warning. He felt their hands... groping, touching, ripping. So revolting, so shameful... he wouldn't let anyone near him again!

Carefully, Terriel did took another step forward, but no further. His voice was still soft and soothing as he went on, trying to get through to the obviously struggling angel. "If you truly don't want me to fix it, I won't. I wish there was another way, but I do have to actually touch your wings in order to heal them. I won't make you let me. But Castiel… if you wait too long, you'll never fly again."

"I'll do it myself!"

"You can't, and you know it."

This time, Cas was silent, but still quivering slightly, as Terriel took another step forward with hands still up. He slowly knelt down so that if Castiel didagree, Terriel wouldn't be standing over him to do this. This would be less threatening. The angel nodded to the ground in front of him invitingly. "I won't hurt you," he promised softly. "If you say stop, I stop."

For a moment, Castiel just stood there, torn. Terriel was a friend. He'd rescued Cas, and he'd saved Sam and Dean. He  _could_ be trusted… but Cas didn't want to reveal his wings again, didn't want any more hands on them. But Terriel's would be healing, not breaking… respectful, not dominating.

And if he didn't let the other angel heal him, he would never be able to fly. Not with a broken wing, and both of them still a wreck from the demons. And if he couldn't fly, the Winchesters would lose that advantage that he could afford them.

But he just didn't want any more hands on his wings. If he felt someone touching him, he might be taken back to those flashbacks that haunted and tormented him. Castiel just didn't know if he could handle that again. But if he didn't... what if one day, his ability to fly meant the difference between life and death for the Winchesters?

That was a jarring thought, enough to force the angel to realize that he  _had_ to do this, but how could he? He couldn't. He just... couldn't. Not alone. Instinctively, Cas turned to Dean, but he couldn't say the words.

He didn't need to. Dean read them as clear as if he was reading a book. "Come on, Cas," he pleaded, holding a hand out to the angel. "I got your back."

"And we'll, uh… we'll be right outside," Sam quickly added, pointing over his shoulder towards the front door. He shot a look at Bobby, but the hunter was already way ahead of him. The less people standing around gawking at Cas, the better. He didn't need an audience for this.

When they had retreated, Cas took a deep breath. Then, slowly, hesitantly, he accepted Dean's offered hand, kneeling carefully down with his back to Terriel – trusting Dean to be watching him like a hawk, just in case. Still moving slowly, he shrugged out of his trench coat and shirt, then closed his eyes.

The magnificent wings shimmered slowly into view, the great white feathers glowing softly. The brown and grey streaks were joined by splotches of red, though, blood that had dried onto the feathers. One wing was askew, lopsided from the break. Most of the feathers towards the outside were straightened (except for the ones missing altogether, ripped out by the demons' claws), but the closer in they got, the more that were still sticking out the wrong way. It was obvious that Castiel had tried hard to smooth the feathers back into place, but hadn't been able to reach a large portion of his wings.

Terriel was a bit pale, seeing the state of Cas's wings, but his expression was determined.

"Castiel, I'm going to have one hand on either wing, alright? I'm going to do this as fast as I can," he assured Castiel softly. Cas's jaw was tight and his eyes were closed, but he nodded.

Dean was still holding his hand, and he muttered softly enough for only Cas to hear, "Squeeze as hard as you gotta."

It was the same brotherly gesture he'd done for Sam a hundred times in their long history of injuries, though it occurred to Dean suddenly that perhaps this wasn't the best idea he'd ever had. If Cas squeezed hard enough, he could probably turn Dean's hand to powder…

Cas nodded, still uncomfortable, but trying to trust, fighting to keep his grip on reality. Terriel gave him a moment, then quietly told him, "Ok, I'm going to start. Remember… it's me, it's Terriel. I'm not going to hurt you, brother."

Carefully, gently, the angel lowered his hands onto Castiel's wings, trying to avoid the joint – that was where Domiel had been holding him. There was a loud hiss of displeasure from Cas, and Terriel kept up a quiet, soothing commentary to distract the angel and keep him calm. Hopefully, it would keep him out of any flashbacks threatening to take over, too.

"I'm healing them now. It's just me. I won't hurt you, and Dean would kill me before I could."

"He's right about that," Dean pointed out; he was glad to see the corner of Cas's mouth twitch, but the angel still had his eyes squeezed tight and face set in the universal please-hurry-this-up expression. There was absolutely no question that Castiel hatedthis, that he was on the very edge of jumping up and fighting them off. Terriel knew it, and he kept talking softly.

"I'm putting the bone back together, Castiel. That'll take a minute. It's already looking better, does it feel ok? I can feel how knotted up it's made your grace, but it's going to be alright. Look, the feathers are already starting to sort themselves out. That must feel much better, they've been out of sorts for all this time and I do know how uncomfortable thatcan be. They're regrowing now, the ones that were ripped out. I can get the blood off, too. Castiel, how are you doing, are you ok?"

"Please hurry," Cas gritted out. His eyes were closed, fortunately, which meant Dean didn't have to hide his agonized expression as his hand was slowly crushed little by little.

Shit, what had he been expecting, offering for an  _angel_ to "squeeze as hard as he needed to"? Brilliant, that had been a brilliant plan. But then, it seemed to give Cas comfort, and if it got him through this then Dean didn't even care. A broken hand was a small price to pay, and he would have willingly paid more.

"I'm sorry, Castiel, I'm hurrying." Terriel was holding his hands as still as possible, masking his awe that the other angel had gone for so long with so much damage to his wings. Clearly, the idea of letting someone else touch them had been harder to take than the actual pain, and that broke Terriel's heart. He was well aware of what it meant that Castiel was trusting himto do this at all.

Poor Dean Winchester, though… Terriel didn't know what had possessed the human to offer his hand to Castiel for this, though it was a noble gesture. Not very bright, but noble. Terriel was impressed and gladdened that Castiel had such friends.

"Almost there," he assured them both. "It's this bone that's taking a while, but I'm almost done, Castiel. As soon as I am, I'll let go, I promise you. You can trust me. A little bit more, and it's all over. Just a little bit more. It's almost done, I can feel how much better your grace is flowing already. Almost done… Ok, Castiel, I'm finished."

Both angels pulled apart at the same time, Terriel raising his hands immediately, while Cas jumped to his feet and all but ran for the wall, a few steps away. He leaned against it, head bowed and breathing furiously, as the beautiful wings shimmered out of view again at last.

Dean, meanwhile, had also gotten to his feet, and was turning a circle in crushing pain as he held his demolished hand up gingerly.  _Son of a BITCH_ , he mouthed, eyes rolling back. Dear GOD, Cas had a grip like a damn vice, and he was positive his hand was actually broken.

Terriel turned to him, concern on his face and mouth open to say something; Dean quickly gave him a glare, using the hand that had  _not_ been turned into pudding to make a slicing motion across his throat… the universal sign for  _shut up_. He didn't want Cas to feel guilty about having squeezed so hard.

The angel silently nodded, holding out his own hand. Dean quickly stole a glance at Castiel to make sure his friend still wasn't looking, then allowed Terriel to take the broken hand and heal it in the blink of an eye. Much better. Ow.

Most importantly, Cas's wings were healed! He'd be able to fly now! Or at least, Dean hoped. They didn't want to crowd him, but he and Terriel shared another quick look before Dean finally spoke up.

"So… Cas, how you doing, buddy?"

Cas was breathing hard, pushing back a wave of panic, as his heart slowed down slightly. Terriel had not hurt him, had not tried to use him or force him into submission. He'd healed his wings; he was a friend. Castiel was safe, it was ok. It was all ok. But for a second there… if not for Terriel's constant, mellow voice, Castiel would have sworn it was Zachariah again, and Domiel and Josiah, and the demons.

"I… I believe they are healed," he replied without turning around, and not really answering the question that Dean had intended. He wasn't doing very well, though, and didn't want Dean to know it. Though, his friend probably already did.

Terriel could put the bones back together, rearrange the feathers, clean him up... but no amount of healing could wash out the filth and impurity of demons on a soul. They couldn't exorcise his wings. There were  _demons_  imprinted on Castiel's soul,which meant the flashbacks would never stop completely; they were burned into him, almost literally. Angels were one thing... but demons were another. Terriel couldn't heal that.

Still, Cas finally turned back around, expression sincere as he murmured, "Thank you, Terriel." There was an overwhelming depth of sincerity in his voice, and Terriel nodded gravely.

"Of course," he replied.

"And you, Dean," Castiel nodded, meeting the hunter's eyes for only a second. "Thank you."

"Oh, anytime." If his hands survived.

"No, Dean… I mean it. Thank you." For being there to offer him a hand. For teaching him that no matter how wounded or weak he felt, he could still fight. For not giving up on him, through the worst of it. For giving him a family after Cas had lost his own.

Dean eyed him for a moment, seeming to understand the deeper meanings in the simple words, and then he nodded. The hunter coughed, clearing his throat uncomfortably at the "chick flick moment" as Cas had heard him say, and replied,

"Sure... I mean, you're a Winchester, Cas. Course, that also means you're cursed… sorry…"

Cas was still feeling too shaken by having to bring his wings out again to really smile, but Dean's words went right to his heart and settled there warmly. To be called a Winchester, even if it wasn't physically true, of course, was still a compliment. Curse or no curse, Castiel would take it gladly.

"So, anyway," Dean quickly went on, rubbing his hands together. "You gonna try them out, or what?"

With another nod, Castiel took a deep breath… and flew. He thought he heard Dean and Terriel cheering behind him, but Cas didn't fly back to them. Instead, he landed quite close by. Just outside, in fact, where Sam and Bobby were sitting with anxiety on their faces. Both of them jumped when Cas popped up in between them, but recovered quickly with huge smiles.

"Cas! It worked!" Sam exclaimed in clear, genuine delight, as he laughed. "It  _worked,_ he healed them! That's great!"

"Good to have 'em back, huh, Cas?" Bobby asked, grinning.

"Yes." The angel's voice was low and strained, but there was also an obvious relief in his tone and expression. No matter how hard the experience was to bring his wings out at all, it  _had_ to feel good to have them back, not carrying around the broken weight any more.

He didn't expand on that, though, instead turning to Sam and murmuring, "Sam, a word?"

"Oh… yeah, of course," Sam replied quickly, though he looked confused. He followed Castiel a short ways away, towards the truck that had become one of the angel's main roosting spots, and waited curiously. "What's up?"

"It's just… I never thanked you properly," Cas explained with a frown. His wings had been put back together. Now he needed to put  _everything_ back together, to tie up all the loose ends that he had left hanging for too long.

Sam tried to brush him off, though, protesting, "Cas, of course. You're family, we'd do anything for you."

"I mean… thank you for what you did. At the prison." Castiel sighed, sitting down on the truck and rubbing his forehead, before looking up again at a much quieter Sam. "The whole time it was happening... you kept telling me to hold on. To look at you. You never looked away and that might not seem like much, but… I didn't feel… alone. Part of me is still horrified and... humiliated... that you saw me like that. But to be honest, I don't know if I could have held on if you  _hadn't_ been there for me."

"Cas…"

"I just wanted you to know that. I know it was terrible for you to have to watch it all."

Holding his hands up, Sam quickly protested, "Cas! You were the one going through it, it doesn't even  _compare_ -"

"Sam." Castiel shook his head and sighed, before admitting, "I know about the nightmares. I don't sleep… but I watch over you and Dean, and I've heard you both. I know what you're dreaming about."

…Oh. Sam looked away, wincing. He'd hoped no one had noticed it, but he  _was_ having some pretty gruesome nightmares, dreaming that he was trapped in that cage again while Cas was being tortured. But he could never reach the angel, he could never help his friend. It was torture for  _him_ as well, and Sam always woke up with a cold sweat, shaking and upset. He hadn't realized Cas knew about the dreams.

"Anyway," Cas went on, uncomfortably. "You could have given up on me, but you never did. So… thanks."

"Of course," whispered Sam. He cleared his throat, then added, "I mean, hey, like I said, you're one of the family, man. Family's all we've got."

There was that word again, family. Castiel liked the way it sounded. He liked the way it felt. Of course, it still felt like there were so many broken pieces inside him that he needed to put back together, but for the first time, Cas felt like he actually  _could_.

There was Dean, hurrying out of the house with a huge grin on his face, waving at Cas triumphantly. Here was Sam, giving him that quiet, encouraging smile. There was Bobby, gruff but good-hearted, and Terriel, who had broken ranks to protect what he believed in, just as Cas had himself.

One thing was certain. Castiel was not going to be defined or confined by what had happened to him. What he had experienced was terrible beyond all imagining, but if it changed him into something he wasn't, then he hadn't defeated Zachariah at all. He wouldn't be made bitter by this, and he wouldn't be made fearful. Castiel was a warrior, a soldier, a fighter – with or without his grace.

It would have been easy to turn cold after everything, but that wasn't what Castiel wanted to be. Besides, even out of so much darkness and evil, where he had found betrayal and abuse, he'd also found friendship. Many angels were mindless sheep, many were ruthless, some were even insane… but some were loyal and true to their original purpose. There were still angels, good angels like Terriel, who still believed in humanity, and standing up for what was right.

That gave Castiel hope.

They weren't safe, of course, not even now. They would  _never_ be safe. The Apocalypse might happen yet, and there would be other dangers, other battles, but this one was done. It was over.

And Castiel, he was free, and he had his new family, and he was where he belonged.

And that was what mattered.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we are, at the end of this little tale. ^_^ I'll start posting the sequel shortly, titled The One You Feed. 
> 
> Always remember, anyone who's going through something of your own: no matter how weak you might feel, true strength doesn't come from having wings or superhuman powers. Anyone can be a fighter, even if the fight is to just keep your head above the water. Know that you ARE strong enough, make the choice to fight for yourself. I love you all.


End file.
